Future's End
by Rose7
Summary: SWKotORfic: An attack upon the former dark lord Revan's life leads to a reclamation of the past she never knew existed.
1. Chapter 1

It was beautiful.

The planet teemed with life and youth, things she hadn't seen in a long time. Katrina walked among the flowers and the trees, marveling at probably one of the few places left in the civilized technological universe where there was lush green as far as the eye could see, and everything was coaxed into life rather than manufactured. Children ran around her, laughing and finding her no impediment to their play.

She turned her head back to face the man in front of her. He too was vividly alive. His arms flew in wild motions around his horribly red face. He seemed to be angry, excited, and in the depths of despair all at the same time. For a moment she was angry too that his demeanor and harsh shouts at her was interrupting her enjoyment of the beauty around her. He seemed to be scolding her- no, not scolding. He was critical and yet he was asking something of her. Pleading and begging for something she didn't know she had to give.

She felt that icy smirk come over her face. He had done something to deserve his current state of affairs. She didn't realize what, but it had to be something very wrong for her to be keeping calm as he yelled and fumed to the skies over her.

The man was suddenly quiet. His face went from a blazing red to a dull, sickly gray. She felt the smirk on her face grow larger. _That's right. Back down. You cannot defeat me. No one can.  
_  
She watched her hands raise as if in friendship. The man regarded them warily for a moment.

She watched as huge bolts of icy blue lightning shot out from the air around her fingertips. She watched as they weaved their way through the air to connect with the man's chest. He was frozen in an odd expression of curiosity and astonishment as they jolted his body up off of the platform and down to the ground.

_Fear me. Should you dare the mistake again, this will be the result_. There was no sound on this world; she could not hear the words come out of her mouth. But their effect was plain on the faces of the others standing around, silent and still, not daring to blink an eyelid.

But their eyes had shifted to somewhere behind her. Katrina turned to see what could be more fear-instilling than her own power.

A fleet of armed troops stood over the singed and smoking bodies of the children. Their masked faces looked towards her.

The first and only sound she had heard on this planet escaped, crackling like the lightning that had killed him from the lips of the dying man on the ground: _"Curse you, Lord Revan..."_

She was plunged into darkness. Only after hearing the sound of her own frantic breathing and the hum of the ship around her did she realize she was awake.

A dream. It had only been a dream.

_At least, that's what you tell yourself at night so you can attempt to go back to sleep._

Katrina held her hands together, trying unsuccessfully with one to keep the other from shaking.

Such dreams plagued her hours of rest. They came to her at night when she was alone, and sometimes even when she wasn't. The former were the worst of them; and she would always awaken screaming, clutching blindly for reassurance that they were only nightmares. She pushed herself up in bed, her eyes already resigned to seeing in the dark.

This would forever be her nightly ritual. She hadn't slept, truly slept, since before the Star Forge. Since before she had discovered that her name hadn't always been her name. Since before any of it.

_Even though since Carth, not sleeping hasn't been entirely bad_, she thought to herself with a shaky smile, trying to discard the last of the nightmare. He would be in the cockpit right now, probably fighting slumber himself and losing the battle. Her dreams sometimes frightened him more than they did her, despite the fact that he couldn't imagine what they contained.

They had taken turns keeping watch on their trip back. Constant messages from either the Council or Republic military officials had awoken them the first few nights and it finally became clear that someone would have to belay the constant inquiries if either of them were to get any sleep at all.

She never got any sleep anyway, but Carth didn't need to know that.

_I'll go relieve him._ She wandered down the corridors of the ship, nearly tripping over scattered tools and supplies in her bare feet.

The ship was new, brand new. The _Ebon Hawk_ had been given to Mission and Zaalbar, who seemed to be the ones who would at least appreciate it the most, if not use it for the noblest motives. It was probably befitting the ship anyways; it had no reputation for noble missions. And she didn't expect the rest of them to follow Carth and her around until time came to get them all home. They were besieged with meetings, ceremonies, and the odd adventure.

Aside from the never-ending nightmares, the constant guilt pressing down on her like a Huttese torture device, the dark Lord Revan also plagued her with hypocrisy. Every time she stood in front of the Council, listening to them remind her about redemption and the power of the light side of the Force; Every time a grateful creature praised her kindness and called her Master Jedi, she was reminded that it was a lie. And she was perpetuating the lie.

She found her hatred for the Jedi Council growing daily, as much from their constant lectures and use of her as their personal delegate as from the fact that they had lied to her and used her for their own gain. The hatred scared her into submission; accepting and agreeing to anything they asked of her. She feared nothing more than bringing that creature who had slaughtered the village in her dreams back into reality.

Their new ship had no name yet, but recently Carth had been dryly referring to her as the _Jedi Chaser.  
_  
She saw the odd angle of his head first, almost at a forty-five degree tilt from his neck and farther down in the chair than it would have been if he was awake. His dark, greasy hair fluttered under the slight breeze coming from an exhaust in the ceiling. She heard the steady, dependable sound of his breathing and felt that nothing in the world could harm her as long as that was there, that broad inhale and smooth exhale keeping the universe in order.

Katrina came up behind him, softly moving her hands down his shoulders. He bristled and yawned, opening his weary eyes to smile at her reflection in the panel in front of him.

"I knew you'd fall asleep," she teased.

"What else am I supposed to do unless you're around, beautiful?"

She slid her arms further down him and smiled into his warm neck, letting his perpetually unshaven stubble scratch her cheeks. "Anyone call?"

"Just Mission with another question about the _Ebon Hawk_. She still won't admit she's asking me for advice."

"She'd rather cut one of her head-tails off than admit you're older and smarter than her."

Carth's hand reached up lazily to tickle her neck.

"Neither will you on certain occasions." He was nothing but laughter and flirtation now that they were on their way back to Telos with nothing else to hinder them and no threats of unfinished business hanging over their heads. The angry, revenge-seeking brooder had faded, hopefully banished forever.

For once Katrina enjoyed the silence, the fact that they were alone and there was nothing to see but endless stars. She felt Carth sink back into the chair once more, his eyes undoubtedly sinking into sleep.

Parts of her simply marveled at the beauty of the innumerable twinking dots before her. Other parts of her wondered how she had ever been part of an ideal that wanted to destroy them. These parts gnawed at her, taunting and laughing when she woke up, breathless and feverish in the night. These parts called to her by name, a name she couldn't remember having but knew belonged to her: _Revan_.

How could whoever had chosen that name have known that it would one day denote a person that could have mangled the noblest ideals of the galaxy into such instruments of evil?

A bright glow from amid the stars broke her thoughts. It was pulsating, shades of red and orange and gold, a streak of color amid a black and white sky. It seemed far off and yet was almost drawing her in, growing larger by the minute.

She admired it for a moment; then curiosity overtook her. Was it an exploding star? Couldn't be. The _Jedi Chaser_ would have surely been screaming louder than a Coruscant cantina if there was anything with that much power nearby. It certainly wasn't blaster fire- she'd seen that enough to have no doubts as to what it looked like.

"Carth," she murmured in his ear. He was a pilot- no, not only a pilot, but the best pilot. He'd probably have seen whatever it was before.

Carth stirred underneath her hands.

"Hmm?"

"What is that?" His eyes fluttered open with a soft smile, as if she was a child asking why a Wookiee was hairy. She waited as his eyes finally located the said anomaly, and he leaned forward in the chair as if getting physically closer would help him identify it.

The glow was all-encompassing now, filling the cockpit with an ethereal light. Katrina had imagined the light of the Force in her darkest dreams as a haven; if she could will it into existence, this was surely what it would be.

Carth stood for a moment, bathed in the light, a black shadow up against a wall of white.

It was only a second more before she registered the way his breathing had suddenly stopped and the regular rhythm was interrupted by a sharp inhale.

"Get down!" he roared, and he was suddenly a terrifying black shadow tackling her to the deck.

There was heat; searing, tearing, screaming heat, and a shrill, piercing cry that she recognized as her own scream. And then there was nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

I should never have left him.

_"We're coming up on Telos." The murmur of the cockpit, the rudimentary checks and balances of making sure the ship ran weren't enough to jolt her out of her reverie, but the mention of Telos, of Carth, was. _

_She blinked a few times and moved her hands quickly over the consoles, at the very least for the appearance that her mind was on the present and not on the past._

_"There's nothing out of the ordinary. Should be smooth sailing." Canderous' razor bladed voice sounded almost a little disappointed. She smirked at him._

_"Even so, keep your eyes open, hmm?" _

_The Mandalorian shook his head. "You know who you sound like, don't you?" he muttered._

_Like Telos. Like Carth._ I should never have left him

_Her pounding heart couldn't seem to decide whether it was regret or otherwise, although she preferred to think otherwise. Regret was something she'd seen far too much of. _

_She rose from her chair, leaving Canderous alone in the cockpit. He couldn't be counted on to distract her from her thoughts; reverence for her as a formerly brilliant tactician was one thing, but engaging her in conversation (or anyone else for that matter) was another._

_The_ Ebon Hawk_ did not hold its arms out to her as if it were home- it carried too much emotional baggage for her. But she couldn't help running a hand along the corridor as she walked towards the crew quarters, remembering the feel of it. Maybe not welcoming her with open arms, but at the very least nodding in respect. _

_She also couldn't help smiling ruefully at the Jedi whose council she had come for, sitting in quiet meditation on one of the bunks. "You never do see me coming, do you?" _

_Bastila opened one eye cautiously, then closed it again._

_"Simply because I do not react does not mean I have no knowledge of your presence," the Jedi said, her half-cocked eyebrow tellingher that, as usual, she was covering up a failing with bantha fodder._

_She couldn't blame her for her pious Jedi airs as she had before the Star Forge. They were Bastila's security blanket, and she would be damned if she would be the one to criticize them._

_"We're coming up on Telos." Her voice sounded much older than she was. She could repeat the phrase over and over and she felt that it would never sound any less foreboding than 'we're coming up on the rancor breeding pit'._

_"Your thoughts scream while you whisper."_

_She looked away. While Bastila could read what her thoughts were, she could not understand them. Not anymore than she could understand them herself._

_"Too much has changed, Bastila." She seated herself next to the Jedi, who immediately uncurled from her meditation pose._

_"A Jedi must always change and learn. Surely in choosing to love one, he must have accepted that."_

She never did know Carth Onasi_, she thought with a smile._

_"You fear that because everything has changed for you," Bastila's voice had always sounded ethereal but direct, she decided, as though she was a deity offering counsel. "And nothing has changed for him-"_

_"Everything has changed for him." Her own voice, she decided, had been full of anger for so long that the lack of it sounded foreign and unsettling._

_"He just doesn't know it."_

_

* * *

_Something had returned. Of that much Katrina was certain.

There was, in the back of her mind, the memory of the last few moments. Moments that might have occurred a few seconds or a few hours ago depending on how long she had been unconscious. The memory of blackness, of hearing the sounds of thick metal tearing and bright flames of red and yellow licking at her sides.

She didn't dare open her eyes yet. They were too comfortable in the reassuring feeling of seeing nothing, not knowing what had happened or what was now waiting for her. Her hands groped around her. The metal grating was still beneath her. The _Jedi Chaser_ was intact; the floor, at the very least. And she was alive, so it had not been destroyed by whatever it was that had made her surroundings so suddenly changed.

A sticky substance coated her hands. It clung to her neck and face, her clothing too. She blindly ran her fingers over these parts, registering the status of them. Good. The more bearings she got the better she would be able to face whatever blinding reality awaited behind the shelter of her eyelids.

Something heavy was on top of her. The feeling of weight and substance was comforting for only a moment until her fingers touched the tendrils of greasy hair. Carth.

He had leapt at her, his erratic breathing a terror in her ear for the few seconds she had been conscious. Somehow his head had moved from there and ended up somewhere near the edge of her abdomen.

She ran her hands through his hair. _One thing at a time. Feel the floor; your face, your clothes, Carth's hair_. She wasn't ready to grasp the status of the rest of him.

It was rough and abrasive in parts, and her fingers came away with bits of a grainy feeling. Singed hair.

Katrina felt her heart beginning to race. _Calm down. Think things through. Remember your training._ The heat had been fire; fire had burned Carth's hair. Burned hair did not mean...

She couldn't even form the thought.

Slowly she opened her eyes. The light wasn't blinding as she had expected, and it only took a moment for her pupils to adjust. The low level emergency lighting gave an eerie pale glow off the metal floor. She stared straight ahead for a moment. Stars were the only things in her field of vision, covered with a hazy purple glow she quickly identified as the emergency force field. So the hull of the cockpit had been breached.

Small, simple facts. One at a time.

Around the edges of the ripped and twisted metal, various broken wires sparked and fizzled in their death throes. It had been some kind of explosion, something undetectable by the ship's sensors, and no ordinary blaster fire either.

Leaving one hand securely resting on the top of Carth's head, Katrina lifted her other hand. Parts of her arm were burned. They ranged from simply bright red to the blistering pale and blackened parts of skin that must have been throbbing with pain. Oddly she did not feel anything. Or maybe she did and it was only a part of the situation she had not registered yet.

_One thing at a time..._

Her hands were also caked in soot and dried blood. She reached to brush a piece of hair out of her mouth and felt something sharp sticking out of her forehead.

_There is no chaos. There is no fear. There is no large piece of shrapnel stuck in my head.  
_  
Her hand flew back to Carth. He was safe, he was solid. He was not a mortal wound. Katrina concentrated on him, ignoring the red haze near her left eye.

Her hands moved from his hair and gingerly ran over his cheek.

It felt like leather. Carth's face was always rough but this was not stubble or dirt or grease. Like leather but different. For a moment she couldn't place the difference.

It was identical to the texture of her burnt arm.

_His hair is burnt. The side of his head is burnt.  
_  
"Carth?" Her voice sounded so foreign amid the relative silence. There was the hiss of steam from some broken conduit, the crackle of electricity from the hanging wires. Her voice seemed to break the natural order of this new world.

He did not answer. Her hands reached his cracked lips at the precise moment she registered that his breathing, whether steady or erratic, was not part of the order of this new world either.

_New plan. Many things at once. As much information as I can get.  
_  
She pushed herself up, dizzy only for a moment. Carth lay prostrate on the floor, his burned head still in her lap.

"Carth, Carth-" She suddenly found that she could not stand the silence and repeated his name over and over until it felt like jelly against her lips and she was mumbling incomprehensible syllables.

She struggled to turn him over, to see more of him. He was heavier than she had ever imagined.

_There is no chaos. There is no fear. There is no Carth Onasi lying in my lap without functioning lungs. _

_There is no breathing coming from his body.  
_  
Whether it was this one immutable fact or the metal having punctured her brain she did not know, but suddenly she registered the pain in her arm, her head, and strongest of all in the left side of her chest. Katrina fell back to the floor, grasping for Carth as her eyes closed, once again enveloping her in darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

"Jedi don't sleep in, beautiful." _She knew he wasn't really saying it, that she wasn't being awakened in the morning with witty nothings. She allowed the secret guilty parts of her to bask in the fantasy for a moment, however. _

_It had prodded her out of black moods and restless sleep for months, and she allowed it to jolt her back into reality._

_"You are restless, young Jedi. You show this even before you speak." _

_She smiled back at the holographic projection of Master Vandar, floating sagely a few inches from her face. "What is the bidding of the Council, Master Vandar?" _

_He shook his head at her. "So quick are you to think the Council demands above all else."_

_"Forgive me, Master, I did not-" _

_Master Vandar chuckled, an odd little repeated squeak that sounded a little like a hyperdrive turning over. "Still acting like a Padawan seeking approval. The Council is pleased with your handling of the situation, and I only wish you well upon your return to Telos."_

_They were pleased._

_She recalled the days when the approval of the Council didn't mean bantha fodder to her. She and Carth would secretly laugh at the stoic messages they would send, so full of archaic words and over-blown advice._

_These, however, were the days in which she knew that the derision of the Council, of the Order, of the Code, were one of the things that had led to her fall in the first place._

_"I thank you, Master Vandar. The task was...not an easy one."_ Such an understatement_. Her thoughts had turned increasingly sarcastic, tinged with a constant teasing quality, undeniably masculine._

_"But succeeded you have. The Star Forge might have been in vain if not for you and your companions."_

_"I did little more than save myself." She realized how language lashed out and broke free from the confines of her jaw, as if it were some wild animal she constantly needed to control._

_She could only think of Jolee for a moment, how he had told Carth that their war was not any important than any other, that they were not more important that the millions who had fought the same war, over and over, for years and years._

_Master Vandar's brow raised for a moment, but the chastisement she expected did not come. "And the most difficult to save, this is."_

You don't know the half of it, sister.

_"What of your Padawan learner?" Master Vandar's words could hardly compete with Carth's, but she allowed them to register all the same._

"His experiences have slowed his training but he will recover." She couldn't decide if his recovery was a fact to be recited or a creed to be believed. It seemed possible and at the same time impossible but lovely to think on.

"His future is unclear. The Council trusts your judgment on this matter."

How sure had they ever been on anyone's future? They had tried to write a new one for her, and she was the testament as to how well that had turned out.

"I thank you for your concern, Master Vandar. Bastila and I will contact the council as soon as everything on Telos has been settled."

Master Vandar nodded. "May the Force be with you."

The words made her feel better, as if the Force equated happiness, as if the Force equated Carth.

"And may the Force be with you, Master Vandar."

Still, she could not entirely forget when the Force had equated the darkest struggles and fears within her.

* * *

"You Jedi don't take long to recover, do you?

It always seemed like she was waking up from something.

"Surprising, considering they take damn near forever on anything else."

She couldn't recall a time when something wasn't breaking her out of a world she didn't want to leave, forcing her to accept a new reality she would only hold until sleep claimed her again.

"Probably didn't have enough time to lightning bolt the hell out of that thermal detonator." The voices, undeniably mocking her, chuckled under their lazy sighs.

They were idle with lack of concern, but she could sense what they held for her: resentment and anger.

In one seamless motion, Katrina's lightsaber was extended from her hand, causing the two men standing over her to jump back and raise their arms.

_There is no confusion, there is no fear.  
_  
"Hey, watch where you're pointing that thing!" The two were dark haired, grubby and dressed in uniform.

She glanced around, noting her new surroundings should something choose to once again yank her out of consciousness. Somehow she knew that she was no longer on a ship, _Jedi Chaser_ or otherwise. This place had the definite solid feeling of foundation, of structure. It was a planet, and hopefully a friendly one. She was in some type of barracks or medical facility. There were too many beds and computer consoles around for it to be anything else.

That, and the two men were unarmed.

"Threatening people might make you lose a few friends," the other one added.

"I wasn't aware I had any here," Katrina replied. The place was beat- up and run-down, but still functioning to the standards of these people.

"We save her life and we're not friends. What do you have to do to win the favor of the Jedi?" the shorter one murmured to the other.

"Tell her where she is for starters."

"You're on Telos." The grip on her lightsaber instantly relaxed. "A scout ship found you adrift a few parsecs out."

Telos. Exactly where they had been headed. Telos was safe, and despite the mockery and anger she felt from these two, they meant her no harm. Katrina withdrew her lightsaber.

"Is the ship salvageable?" She couldn't ask the most important questions, not yet.

"Nothing irreplaceable was damaged. The extent of the attack was focused on the cockpit," one of them continued, his arms still raised suspiciously as if any moment she might slice him in half.

"Still, it's surprising the hyperdrive and the main systems are still intact, though the controls will be dearer than Tarisian ale to replace. Onasi knows how to pick a ship," the other one added, and both smiled roguishly at the mention of Carth. Katrina couldn't decide if that was in her favor or not.

She wanted desperately for a moment to plead about the state of him, to find him, to make sure he was salvageable too.

_Training, remember your training. Knowledge first, pounding heart second.  
_  
"What is it that attacked us?" She prayed for a random accident, a freak occurrence of the cosmos.

But she already knew in her heart the nature and purpose of the attack.

"We thought you'd know that already, being a Jedi and all," the man replied sharply, his eyes seemingly blaming her for all the wrongs he had suffered in his life.

She suddenly felt old and tired. Revan followed her everywhere it seemed; pinning the crimes of the past to a body that, while having committed them, had no recollection of it.

"Do you know who I am?" She tried desperately not to make it come out the way it did: cold and already having sealed the fate of those who didn't know the answer.

The men exchanged glances, their arms still halfway raised in protection.

"Look, we don't want any trouble-"

"Tell me who I am."

It seemed to be the question that she would forever be asking and never quite sure the answer she got was the right one.

"They say you're Revan." She felt the name like a kick in the guts. "But you've reformed and become a Jedi again." The man's tone showed just how much he believed that rumor.

_There is no self-pity, there is no anger. There is no frustration at a past and a future already written for me.  
_  
"Well, I'm not." Her words were short, curt, infallible. "My name is Katrina, and Carth and I were just trying to get back here."

She tried not to let the mention of his name send her spiraling into panic.

The two medics seemed to consider the association with Carth positively as they lowered their hands.

"From the extent of the burns you both received, and the fact that the damage was localized to the cockpit, it had to be a very small blast, thermal in nature."

"We assume your sensors didn't go off?" She nodded. "Couldn't really figure that one out for ourselves since, well, they've been blown away."

"The repair crew hasn't finished up their examination of the ship yet, but since it was undetected by the sensors and small enough to only cause damage to the cockpit, my credits are on it having been a thermal detonator." The two seemed in their element now, and for a moment she wondered why they were medics and not out on some space freighter, as they obviously wanted to be. "Most sensors aren't equipped to pick up hand-held demolitions as most people with as much sense as a bantha don't go tossing them around in the vacuum of space."

_Most people, that is, that don't want to kill me.  
_  
"What about the light?"

The two exchanged glances again.

She felt irritation and impatience, her two greatest enemies since the fall of Malak nipping at her heels. "I saw a bright light coming towards us. Like an exploding planet or star or something. A little thermal detonator wouldn't produce that kind of light."

"If you think thermal detonators are _little_." One of them shrugged, getting a wry smirk on his face. "Maybe it was the Force or something. Don't Jedi see it when they die or something like that?"

_Fools. I'm getting made fun of by two wannabe spacers who don't understand the power of the Force. Idiots.  
_  
The derision in her thoughts scared her and she said nothing in reply.

"You might have too if that scout hadn't come along. Lucky for you that piece of the bulkhead didn't go in too far." Her hand flew to the space on her forehead where a few hours ago a piece of metal had resided.

"You'll have some scars but nothing that'll kill you." She felt the whitish puffy line near her forehead and thought idly about how it must look. Her forearm was lying in a bacta tank, the charred flesh now a scaly white and a few wisps of black particles in the liquid.

_How about those questions, beautiful?  
_  
She shook her head, breaking her concentration on her injuries. There were no more questions now. There couldn't be anymore until she knew what had happened to Carth.

"Where's Carth?"

The two men seemed to instantly concentrate harder on their tasks, examining their medical kits with renewed interest.

"Carth?" one of them said blandly, like it was some foreign word in a language he had trouble pronouncing.

She felt some strange desire to ram her lightsaber straight into his eye.

"Carth. Carth Onasi. You know who he is, you said his name before. Where is he?" She could hear her desperation, the exasperated sigh she let out before saying it. She could vaguely hear in the distance her old mentors and masters waggling their fingers at her for her panic and obvious lack of control of the situation.

"He must have been trying to protect you," The man's speech was halting, and they both eyed her lightsaber as though they knew where her thoughts were heading. "Because he took most of the blast."

_There is no all-pervasive guilt, there is no desire to kill.  
_  
Every second she knew she was losing grip of what was happening, that this new reality was one in which she would have not even have will over herself.

"He's dead." Even as she said it, she felt that it wasn't true, but she could not think of anything worse to make these men fear to tell her.

"No, not dead." The man walked over to the back of the room.

The door he opened hissed for a moment, obviously just as worn-out and battle-ridden as many of the surroundings here were. But open it did, to finally reveal Carth. Not dead.

"He's almost there, however."


	4. Chapter 4

_This is what the dutiful Jedi does. She contacts the Council and awaits further instruction.  
_  
Katrina forced herself to repeat it over and over, waiting for the familiar figures of the council to appear on the screen before her.

This was what she was supposed to do. She was not to keep her death grip on Carth's sickly, yellow, kolto-infused skin. She was not to lapse into panic or succumb to the adrenaline rush that made her want to grab her lightsaber, find whatever miserable creature had done this, and tear them in half.

Even now she fought to keep her attention on the Council, trying not to look at him.

His face, as she suspected, had been burned badly. It was blistering red and white, some black singes still near his hairline to denote just how bad it had been before the medics had started on him. His eyes were fused shut, and she tried to convince herself that she would see under the lids once again.

His body had been battered and bloody from absorbing whatever shock had been meant for her. Now, lying on the bed with kolto running into it, it took on that pale, yellowing color as if it were already decomposing. She didn't think about what might have happened to the very important organs inside it.

The scars didn't frighten her; she used them to make herself believe that this was Carth, her Carth, and those would be the same scars as the many others that traced his veteran soldier's body.

_But he is alive_, she reminded herself firmly. _He is alive. _

"Revan!" It was not Master Vandar's voice that greeted her, but rather an uncharacteristically-excited Bastila.

She gave the image her dirtiest look, but Bastila either did not remember how much she despised that name or did not care.

"These are good tidings," she continued, seeming to come back into that collected demeanor Katrina knew so well. "The Council had feared the worst when we received word about the destruction of your ship."

_And if you feared the worst, why isn't a battalion out here searching for us? Why aren't you going after whomever did this with your sabers blazing? Fools-  
_  
"It's not destroyed," she stubbornly muttered, unable to think of a way to begin.

Bastila's eyebrow raised, and Katrina saw the way, even in a holographic projection, how she was trying to look behind her into the background, see Carth, assess the situation.

"We were attacked-"

"By who?"

Her hand twitched and she inhaled deeply. "I don't know who. We drifted and were picked up by scouts from Telos. The authorities here seem to think it was a thermal detonator." _If those two Jedi-scared medics could be described as authorities_, she thought wryly. No matter. 'Authorities' lended the notion that she had done more than she actually had, that she had the knowledge of the situation a Jedi should have.

"You do not agree with this, I sense." The figure of Master Vandar, probably having been perched behind Bastila observing the events, walked into the projection.

"No Master, I do not. There were characteristics of the attack that could not have been produced by a mere hand grenade, even if let go in space."

Vandar nodded. "The attack was not successful however."

She fought the urge to turn around.

I_ will not look at him, I will not look at him.  
_  
"No. They did not hit their intended target." She forced the words out and she knew they sounded tight and angry, but she would rather they simply suspect her rage than hear it unleashed from her lips.

Vandar paused before continuing, but whether he observed Carth in the background or not she didn't know.

"The Council was foolish to believe that your return to both the side of the light and the land of the living would be easy."

_You know nothing. Admit your weakness. Fools-  
_  
"Much deliberation is needed, young Padawan. We must decide what is to be done, and soon. Have you no other details on the attack?"

_I have one very large detail. But he's currently soaking in kolto because of me.  
_  
"Only that I desire that it doesn't happen again."

A brief smile crossed Vandar's face. "The Council will contact you as soon as a decision has been reached. In the meantime, Bastila will travel to Telos and assist you in whatever course of action we deem necessary."

Good. She'd rather it be Bastila than a Jedi she did not know, if for nothing else than she would not have to spend time with the stares of a Revan-awed follower.

"May the Force be with you."

And as much as she wanted to scream at Master Vandar, at Bastila, at all of them: _Why aren't you doing something? _Instead she replied with the spinelessness she had come to despise herself for:

"And with you, Master Vandar." The projection disappeared, and she rose from her chair, still not allowing herself to look at the sickbed behind her.

There was one more thing she had to do that didn't fall under the responsiblities of a Jedi.

And no matter how much she dreaded it, felt she was not capable of the task that, while no one asked her of it, she knew it was hers for the taking; this was also what she was supposed to do.

Katrina exited the room, finding one of the medics still waiting outside the door for her.

"How do I contact Dustil Onasi?"

* * *

_She didn't like that gaze he was giving her. It made her feel angry, embarrassed, and confused as to what she was supposed to be angry and embarrassed about. It was accusatory, and she didn't like being accused. _

_But he hadn't said a word to her- all his angry words were directed at Carth._

_And then all of Carth's angry words were directed at her, and the gaze of his son still bore down on her, condemning for something she, not Revan, had done._

_Katrina awoke slowly, trying to grasp the meaning of this nightmare. Screams and extending her lightsaber against imaginary demons only occurred now when something sufficiently terrifying entered her dreams. Not much these days was enough to warrant that reaction._

_But this had not been a nightmare. This was a memory of Korriban, a place that could sufficiently transform anything into a nightmare._

_She felt Carth's quiet breathing against her brow, and did not move, hoping he hadn't noticed._

_"I haven't had such a good night's sleep since the last time you were sleeping next to me," he murmured in her ear with a chuckle. She only mumbled in reply._

_"You had a rough time of it," he added, obviously trying to get her to talk about it without actually having to ask her to talk about it. Of course- he always noticed and asked even when he wasn't sure._

_"What did you dream about? It sounded pretty good." _

_He laughed. "Ah nothing, just a bunch of Twi'lek dancers." _

_She glared at him._

_"You and that Twi'lek dancer from Taris, specifically," he added with a grin. "You were pretty suspiciously good at that as I recall." _

_Katrina tried not to think about the fact that the young dancer she had helped so long ago was long dead from the destruction of Taris._

_"What did you dream about, beautiful?" he asked gently. Normally the use of that particular nickname could get her to tell him anything. This time she rolled over and said nothing._

_"Carth?" He raised an eyebrow in response._

_Some part of her wanted to change the subject, ask something else that could fool him and take him off the scent that she had something important to ask him._

Fool. Listen to yourself, afraid to ask him a simple question. What can he do to you? You are a Jedi. You are powerful. You are Lord Revan.

_She almost shook her head to silence the voice, which was correct in its attempts to bolster her confidence but disturbing in its choice of reasons why._

"Did you ever think about having any children besides Dustil?" It flowed out so smoothly and so easily that she wondered why she had been afraid to ask in the first place.

Carth let out a short nervous laugh, rubbing his eyes and falling lazily onto his back.

"Um...I..." he stammered, and she couldn't help but smile at the way language always seemed to fail him when he was saying something important. "Geeze, that's a pretty loaded question, isn't it?"

She said nothing.

"I'm not really that young anymore, beautiful," he murmured with that same stuttered and nervous laugh. She suddenly noticed the crow's feet crawling from the edges of his eyes, the licks of gray beginning behind his ears.

But she narrowed her eyes at him and he laughed half-heartedly again, obviously aware of what a weak excuse it was.

"The war broke out before we..." Carth paused, and she noticed how lately he was unable to say her name, or even say "my wife". "Before we could even think about that, and afterwards, well, I guess I just assumed the opportunity would never present itself."

He cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. "I'm a little afraid to ask why."

She didn't really have an answer for him.

When she thought of children, she thought of Dustil, who wasn't her child but would soon be as close as she would get. All she thought of was Dustil, the hatred and anger and fear that had been rampant in him the last time she'd seen him. Among the few words she had ever said to him in his life had been her snide reply to his question of how she'd managed to get into the Sith Academy: "Through the front door."

She was afraid of him. She was afraid of Dustil Onasi, the son of the man she loved and barely a man yet himself. She was afraid of whatever relation she might have with him, what unsaid expectations were going to be laid on her this time. She was afraid and angry with herself for being afraid, and hated herself for being angry.

The hatred and anger and fear was still in her and she did not like how that was the only bond she could claim with him.

* * *

He's not afraid anymore.

_She realized it instantly upon seeing the relaxed set of her Padawan's jaw, the careful way he was bent over the workbench, concentrated on his lightsaber._

She envied his lack of fear and his ability to not spend every waking moment on what might be waiting for him. Then again, he was descendant of a line that took comfort in action, that concentrated on the task at hand.

That, and he had little to fear. His father's love was constant.

At the same time she was proud, proud that he was not lodged in the past, that he would continue to reconcile it with what was in his future.

At least, she hoped so.

"Did it take you this long to master setting a crystal?" he asked with a hint of good-natured irritation in his voice.

"No. But it wasn't the first time I had done it either." She could not remember the very first time she had done anything- she still had no way of knowing whether it had been her first or her thousandth.

"Think I'll have time to get it looking presentable?"

She smiled.

"If it works, it's presentable enough." She stopped herself before adding 'for him'. Both knew why Dustil was determined to have his shiny new achievement ready by the time they reached Telos.

She too, hoped to have something presentable to Carth, something to justify having left him, having learned so much without him.

Whether Dustil worked or not remained to be seen.


	5. Chapter 5

She heard the fumbling of whatever hapless medic had been sent to retrieve her in the background. "Um...miss?"

Katrina smirked. The dumbfounded crew of this Telosian medical center didn't know what to make of a rumored dark Lord-turned Jedi, and less of what to call her.

"Dustil Onasi's here."

She nodded.

Dustil had been tracked down, working odd jobs around the planet. This made her both surprised and unimpressed- Some part of her had an image of Dustil helping to rebuild the war-torn planet, doing noble, helpful deeds. The other part of her knew that this image was his father, not him.

She rose from her seat near Carth. Near him, but not too close. If she saw him too much like this, in this frail and fragile state, she was afraid of forgetting was he was like altogether.

_There is no fear, there is no inexperience, there is no unreadiness.  
_  
Dustil stood waiting in the next room. She caught his momentary glance behind her, straining to see in between the doors before they creaked shut.

She didn't mind keeping him from Carth at the moment. He would see more than he probably wanted to soon enough.

He didn't look any less angry or upset than he had the last time she saw him. Hopefully that anger was now that his father's life was in danger, rather than the anger at him being alive at all.

_At least he's not in his Sith uniform anymore_, she reasoned.

They regarded each other for a moment.

_Say something. Say anything, don't just stand there.  
_  
Why had this been so much easier through the computer? She had explained Carth's condition, Dustil had agreed to come. He was not a different person than the one she had spoken to through the communicator.

Why did these feelings of inadequacy strike now and not then?

"I-"  
"You-"

Both began and both stopped to concede to the other, and Katrina sighed impatiently.

"He's glad you're here." Immediately she regretted how stupid and clichéd her words were.

"How do you know?" She knew he didn't mean for her to take it the way she did, that he didn't mean to sound rude and condescending, shutting her out of a circle that no longer really existed. But the words still stung.

"He was coming back to see you." She didn't mean for it to sound as though it was his fault, as though he had failed his father, but she could see it had been taken that way.

The silence was horribly uncomfortable, and she watched Dustil pace around a bit, noting the way his hair didn't fall into his eyes constantly, straight and stubborn.

"I don't know how things really are between you two." She pretended it was Carth she was speaking to, and it became a little easier. "Carth always told me it was better but you'd know more about that than me."

"Better. Not perfect, but better." Dustil's words were unfathomable, even to a Jedi like her, and she tried vainly to find the hidden meaning in them before giving up and continuing.

"You came, so they must be better than-" She stopped herself from saying 'before', or 'Korriban', or 'when you were part of the Sith'. "Well...in any case, I need to ask you to do something for me."

Dustil looked at her like she was a beggar pleading for credits.

"You did help get me out of..." he trailed off. Language apparently failed him as well. "I guess I owe you one too."

It wasn't the answer she wanted, but owing her something was better than outright refusal.

"The Jedi Council has advised me to find whoever planned this attack- "

"Sound advice." She tried not to think of the words 'smart-aleck' or 'brat'.

"Another Jedi, Bastila, will be accompanying me. I don't know how long it will take or how far it will be. We're hoping to start on Telos since we were pretty close to it when the attack hit. Maybe it'll yield something." He was watching her expectantly, almost impatiently, waiting for the part that involved him. She didn't like the feeling.

"I need you to stay here."

Dustil inhaled sharply. Immediately she was afraid of what she had asked, what kinds of unknown meanings that could have between father and son, what kinds of memories the request could hold.

She realized, with a finality and a completeness that she hadn't before, just how little she knew of Carth's life before her.

_There is no ignorance...  
_  
Dustil still said nothing. He walked past her and into the room she had just left, the room with Carth.

He held his hands behind his back, like Carth was an exhibit in a museum. His face went through too many emotions, as if it couldn't decide what the right one was and was instead testing each one out thoroughly.

His reticence only lasted a few moments, however.

"So let me see if I've got this," he began slowly, unbelievably. "You want me to sit here and watch my father die?" The words slithered out until the final four broke violently from his lips.

"No, I want you to stay here and watch him recover." It was a fool's hope; but it was her hope. Dustil glared at her.

"I spent my life watching him leave me. I'm not going to voluntarily subject myself to it again." His logic was so complete, and for a moment she didn't know how to counter it.

"I can't stay with him," It seemed to hurt all the more when she admitted it herself. "And I'm not going to leave him alone."

"He'll never know."

Her eyes narrowed. "But we will."

"And why aren't you going to stay? Isn't this a bit more important than whatever mystical quest you _Jedi _have to do? You supposedly _love_ him." Words seemed to take on a new meaning when Dustil Onasi said them.

He sneered 'Jedi' as if it tasted bad. And 'Love' made her feel as though she were Carth's personal plaything rather than having actual feelings for him.

"You supposedly love him too," she replied with a small voice, as small as he had made her feel. Dustil wasn't Carth but, like Carth, he could see when he had been beaten. He was silent.

If he questioned her again, she knew she wouldn't be able to go. She would defy the Council, she would crawl further inside herself and never leave his side.

She needed to find the attacker. And this was not only necessary as a command of the Council, but if Carth was to live; indeed, to live with her- she had to go.

_Carth will understand._ And his son would have to too.


	6. Chapter 6

It was stupid, what she was doing. It was avoidance and probably very evident to Dustil, who sat moodily in the corner of the room, that she didn't want to talk to him.

But Katrina continued to pretend to pack, despite the fact that she owned two possessions; one was her lightsaber, and the other the slightly singed clothing on her back.

He agreed; after a few more carefully traded barbs. She still didn't know whether it was the fact that he would have to see his father like this for a prolonged period of time or the fact that he was agreeing to do something for her that made him look so murderous at the moment.

Either way she avoided the problem by not speaking to him, by not looking at Carth, by pretending she was doing something else.

Behind the door she could hear the exasperated efforts of the medic crew trying to communicate something. She clearly recognized the stern voice of Bastila countering everyone.

Katrina smiled to herself, feeling a little sorry for the besieged workers of this facility. She didn't know why they feared the Jedi so much, but this experience was not going to help their unfounded ideas about the Force.

"What is that?" Dustil asked, sounding a little like he was looking for a fight.

"That would be Bastila," she replied, still refusing to look at him. She exited the room.

"Finally!" Bastila exclaimed upon seeing her.

"Just how many of your Jedi friends will we be expecting?" one of the original two medics snapped at her. She had yet to learn their names, but at this rate she doubted they would tell her anyways.

"Will you please tell these people that I'm not leading a Jedi invasion or resurrecting the Sith or any such nonsense?"

"She's not leading a Jedi invasion or resurrecting the Sith or any such nonsense," Katrina answered, smiling at Bastila's irritated face.

The medics grumbled and moved off, and Katrina decided that finding out why they hated all Jedi so much would be one good reason to leave Carth.

The two words, a distasteful verb and the man she loved, made her throat go dry.

"You'd do better not to agitate them, especially when they have such a low opinion of our order," Bastila murmured quietly.

Not much had changed in Bastila visibly, though Katrina could only guess at what went on inside her. The connection they had was now bitterly resisted by both, who each had no wish for their deepest, darkest fears to be known to the other. "And I suppose you couldn't avoid agitating them just now?"

Bastila sighed heavily. "How is he?"

She tried not to think of the words 'broken', 'ruined', or 'beyond repair'. "How did you know?"

"The Council was concerned at your hesitance to tell them the entire truth. They made inquiries through the Telosian facility. I must admit that they were relieved it was Admiral Onasi's condition you were hiding and not something more sinister from the Council."

_And why am I not allowed secrets of my own? The Council saw fit to hide my identity from me. Hypocritical liars-  
_  
She tried quickly to silence her thoughts.

"The Council trusts you, have no fears about that." No use. Her former mentor had seen them.

"It'll take time. He's in bad shape."

Bastila nodded, for once content to accept an abbreviated version of the truth.

"What are the orders of the Council?" Katrina asked. She had stretched the truth a little for Dustil. The Council's true orders, while probably along the lines of what she had said, hadn't been told to her yet. In true Jedi Council fashion, she would be the last to know of their plans.

"This attack has many unknown factors. We haven't even found out the weapon used for it, and I, like you, don't believe it was a mere thermal detonator. The Council has decided this was a planned attack with a weapon we as of yet do not know of. They advise us to act with caution and begin looking for the perpetrator where the evidence suggests."

_Because they don't know. Because they don't have the slightest clue of who or why this attack occurred. It could be any of thousands in the galaxy and they have absolutely no idea.  
_  
She knew Bastila could see her thoughts by the way she stared critically at her, searching for any emotional flaws as if they would be visible to the naked eye.

"Telos seems as good as any a place to begin," she continued, trying to avoid Bastila's gaze.

"I agree. Your proximity to the planet at the time of the attack could be a factor."

That and supposedly she would live here someday. It wouldn't hurt to see what kind of a place had spawned both Carth and Dustil. "Do we have a ship?"

Bastila smirked. "If you ever called the _Ebon Hawk_ a ship. I certainly never did."

She didn't want to traverse down a path of her life she had already been down, but it seemed she had no choice.

Her past would not be left behind. It would stay, clinging to her legs kicking and screaming until she dealt with it. "Mission and Zaalbar agreed to come?"

"Indeed. They had to be dissuaded from doing more." She doubted Mission had grown out of her stubborn idealism. That was something inherent in the Twi'lek herself, not just in her comparative youth. And with Zaalbar's life debt to her, she doubted the Wookie had been much of a sobering influence.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Dustil, having crept into the room, now standing near the doorway, watching both of them with folded arms.

"You look familiar," Bastila said, giving him a once-over.

"Dustil Onasi-"  
"Carth's son."

She returned Dustil's suspicious gaze, silent for a moment so that she wouldn't talk over him again.

"I didn't know Admiral Onasi had a son," Bastila said, eyeing her as though she was trying to figure out how she could have given birth to a young man in his mid-twenties over the course of a few months.

"He's an Admiral now?" Dustil said, standing up from his slouched position against the doorway.

"Of course. Without your father's efforts, the Republic surely would have fallen to Malak. That does call for some little type of reward."

Dustil seemed to digest this information, nodding and saying nothing.

_I don't know what he's thinking_. And she didn't like it.

"Dustil's staying here until we return." She didn't mean for it to sound like an unspoken command, but Dustil still sighed angrily behind her.

"Whenever things are settled here," Bastila said finally, glancing once more behind her as if she could see beyond the doors into Carth's sickroom. "We can set out. This medical facility is part of a rebuilding city here on Telos, and I suggest we begin here." Katrina looked at Dustil, but he offered no verification or additional info.

_There is no uncertainty, there is no questioning if I have done the right thing.  
_  
It seemed as though all this had occurred in the space of minutes instead of the course of a few days, and she was dumbfounded that the event she had been dreading was now being placed before her.

_He is alive_, she reminded herself again. _He will stay that way._

_

* * *

_  
Her first thought was how, for the first time in his life, he was actually clean-shaven.

The many operations to his face had made shaving it a necessity. She was surprised how the lack of substance made him appear older, not younger. He simply was not Carth without that protective layer of experience around him.

She had strayed so far from him in the past few days; calling the Council and finding Dustil, trying to stay with him while staying as far away from him as possible, that she had refused to look at him, refused to touch the man that could comfort her with a mere look.

He also was not Carth while lying on a medical bed, various machines supporting and regenerating his vital organs. Katrina came closer to him, standing over the bed.

She had been with him through the rest of it, but he had looked so gone then. So utterly beyond hope that the shell of a man she had sat by felt as though he had no connection to her at all. This man, though; he was broken but he was Carth.

And she was leaving him.

She leaned over him, her hand in his hair and her other on his cheek. One of his eyes had wandered open, but whether this had been a reaction or a moment where he had been conscious, she didn't know.

He was warm, and he was alive. She struggled to remind herself that leaving did not mean he would grow cold and dead.

"I'll pretend you can hear me," she began to his lone brown eye, staring her down, already accusing her of what she hadn't admitted yet. "Even if there's no sign of it."

The eye gazed at her, and she could not tell if it saw her or if she was merely in the path some lucid dream.

"You promised to protect me. I didn't think you'd go so far as to take a thermal detonator for me," she continued, laughing weakly.

She did not want him hurt protecting her. She had never wanted that, had said it to him even when he made the promise so long ago.

He had said he'd be hurt worse if he didn't try. Looking at him now she was unable to see what worse was.

"I don't want to go, Carth. Please believe that I don't want to go, but I have to." The eye stared dumbly at her. She felt her own beginning to sting.

"For once the Council is right. I never thought I'd be agreeing with them whole-heartedly like this, but I do. Someone planned this attack, and whoever it is won't stop here. Especially when they discover they didn't hit their intended target." Her breathing shuddered for a moment, and she gulped down air, trying to suppress the tears she knew were coming.

_It was meant for you. Everything is meant for you. Everything he did, every danger he's been through since the_ Endar Spire_, that's all been meant for you. Death and dismemberment at your hands even when you aren't concious of it.  
_  
"I'm sorry," She couldn't stop the tears now. She couldn't stop the nasty voice in her head chiding her for them either. "I don't know who I am but everyone else seems to. And you're suffering for it." She felt her lungs hiccup for air, heard her broken sobs that sounded more like choking than weeping.

_There is no self-pity, there is no sadness. There is no guilt and there is no regret attacking me at all sides.  
_  
Katrina sniffed, wiping her nose in her arm. She ran her fingers over his face, staring back at his open eye.

It gazed at her as if she could right all the wrongs of the universe simply by being here. She smiled.

"I know. "Jedi don't cry, beautiful", right?" She entertained the thought that she could see his wry smirk in that lone gaze.

"None of us will be safe unless I can convince whoever's behind this that I'm not who they think I am. You protected me, and now I'll protect you. And Dustil too."

_Dustil will be here. He will, and you will not.  
_  
Katrina found that it was harder than she thought to look away from him, despite having been so afraid to come here, to confess her sins to the man who couldn't stand to condemn her.

"He's here, Carth. He'll stay with you, while I'm gone. He loves you." She found that the words she wanted to add, the I-love-you that she so desperately wanted to assure him of, was stuck in her throat. It was too expected, too obvious.

It was too true.

She kissed his forehead. She forced herself to stand, forced herself to walk backwards, to pull her hands back from his body and break the contact she had been so afraid of between them.

She heard his breathing, steady and sure, the only part of him that, once it had begun again, needed no regeneration.

"I'll return. I promise."


	7. Chapter 7

_"Well, they're not shooting us down. Everything looks to be in place." She didn't answer Canderous, only nodded in agreement. Everything was in place; her life, those she loved, her past, present and future. Now it was just a matter of it all fitting together. _

_"It looks a lot nicer this time around." She heard Dustil murmur behind her._

_Everything would look nicer once they were back on Telos. She had been telling herself that ever since she had left it nearly a year ago._

_"This is the_ Ebon Hawk_ requesting permission to land." Canderous said, and she thought of how it was his voice that gave him his power, that authority that wouldn't be questioned. Strip away the formidable appearance, Mandalorian warrior history, and a will that couldn't be contested, but as long as he still had that voice, she didn't see how anyone could argue._

_Power came from everywhere it seemed; to some men from timbre, to other men from the inability to desire it._

_She waited patiently for what seemed like ages while the port authorities on Telos checked and rechecked the legitimacy of their request._

_"I still don't see why you won't let me fly her," Mission said, reaching her hand past Canderous towards the controls. The Mandalorian stared at it as if he might bite it off._

_"We want to land, not blow the planet up again," Dustil answered._

_"_Ebon Hawk_, you are cleared for landing at dock twelve." _

_"There's more than one?" Canderous muttered._

_"The rebuilding process must have begun with the construction of more space ports," Bastila, who had been as silent as she had for the duration of their approach to Telos, offered._

_"I bet I know who's been prodding them into moving it along." Mission's words were met with no reaction._

_She refused to utter his name. Not now, not when she was so close to him. The next time she said it, she wanted his raised eyebrow, his cocksure smirk, not the deafening finality of silence._

_"Understood. Beginning our descent," She finally replied._

_She was realizing everything, with enough work and patience, could eventually be put back together. Destroyed planets, broken bodies._

_Even incomplete identities._

* * *

"Perhaps it would be better if we hid our lightsabers," Bastila murmured into her ear. Katrina scoffed. They had Jedi written all over them, despite the weapons hanging from their robes. 

For one thing, they weren't as dirty and unkempt as half the people around here. They weren't even out of the facility yet and already she had a pretty good idea of what the planet awaiting her would look like.

Dark, suspicious, and aloof. The workers eyed the two Jedi with that same hatred and accusations that the two medics who saved her had. It seemed they knew exactly who she was, could see all the dark blots upon her life.

She tried to keep her eyes focused ahead of her, towards the hangar that held the ruins of the _Jedi Chaser.  
_  
"Hold it!" For a moment she was tempted to simply keep walking past the man who was now holding out his ancient blaster as if nothing would please him better than to shoot her.

"I've never seen you before and I've worked here for the better part of my life. Now you want to tell me just what you're doing wandering around in a restricted repair zone?" Not even the guards now were threatening her- just common workers and citizens were hounding for her blood too.

And everyone had a blaster. That she had noticed right away.

"I was with Admiral Onasi when our ship was attacked. I'm on my way to see if it's been repaired," Katrina carefully repeated the spiel she had been repeating ever since leaving the sickbay.

_Begin with Carth, a man they all trust, end with an understandable task._ She couldn't tell them that she was a Jedi searching for the people who were trying to murder her former-Dark Lord self. They didn't seem to trust anything that wasn't as beaten-down and worn-out as the rest of them.

"Onasi? Carth Onasi?" the man repeated dumbly, letting his blaster fall a little.

_There is no raging impatience, there is no desire to just slash through all these fools_.

"Yes, Admiral Carth Onasi." She wondered how many times she would have to say his name, how many times she would have to remind herself of him.

The man said nothing in reply. With a gaze that still said he would have liked to use the blaster, he stepped back and allowed them to pass.

"They say the Mandalorian War cost the Republic more than they could ever imagine. Planets like this must be the example," Bastila said.

She couldn't help feeling a certain frustration that this war which had changed so much for so many, a war she helped begin, had vanished completely from her memory.

"Is it us they hate, or just people in general?" _Or is it me?_

"I should think that the Mandalorians might be at the top of the list, but we are not Mandalorians."

"Very astute observation," she couldn't help adding, smirking to herself at Bastila's exasperated sigh.

_You can take the girl out of the dark side, but you can't take the dark side out of the girl._ He was probably the only person she let slide with comments like that. Anyone else was liable to get the receiving end of her lightsaber.

They reached the hangar. Not unsurprisingly, three armed guards stood outside of it. The place seemed overrun with guards, as if every moment the people in it feared another attack.

"Repair crew's expecting you. Go on in." Katrina exchanged glances with Bastila as they headed inside.

The _Jedi Chaser_ looked older than the _Ebon Hawk_. Scourged, burned, and scarred by the explosion, she looked like wreckage from a minor war rather than the practically brand new ship she had been only a few days ago.

"I wondered when you'd be coming down to check on her," The voice was coming from a set of legs poking out from an opened bulkhead on the hull of the ship. "Got banged up pretty good, but nothing you probably can't fix, if you're still the pilot you were a while back-"The rest of the man emerged from the bulkhead. He was covered in grime and soot, not unlike having gone through the attack with the ship himself.

"You're not Onasi," he said curtly.

"No, I'm not," Katrina replied carefully, trying to size the man up. Some grizzled white hairs poked out from the filth around his chin, and a pair of keen eyes seemed to be more curious about her than accusatory.

"You must be that girl I heard was with him- Pretty enough to fit the position, I'd say." She smiled, wondering if this kind of roguish charm was a Telosian trait.

"Where is old Carth? Never knew him to not be concerned about his ship."

_He probably is. If he still knows he has a ship. If he still knows he exists at all.  
_  
"Admiral Onasi was injured in the attack and is recovering," Bastila answered for her.

The man gazed at her again with that curious, wondering look.

"Sounds like Carth all right," he murmured.

"Well, I'll fill you in since I assume that's why you're here," he said, straightening up. "I'm Genides, head of repairs around this particular watering hole."

He turned and began to walk around the ship. Katrina hurried after him.

"Now, like you might have heard by now, nothing horribly critical was damaged. Hyperdrive, life support- that's all still intact. The controls to all of that however, were destroyed, basically making the rest of it not worth a tinker's damn."

She gazed at the destroyed shell that was once the cockpit and wondered how she had possibly avoided the death it meant for her.

_Oh. Right, that.  
_  
"Do you know what could do this type of localized damage?" Genides leaned up against the ship, sending a cloud of soot into the air.

"To be honest, no one is entirely sure. Telos barely has the facilities to keep the few of us alive, let alone investigate strange attacks on alien ships. Hell, you're lucky they found you and brought you here at all. Of course, it being Carth's ship and all made them a lot more receptive to helping you out."

"The running rumor is that it was a hand weapon detonated in space, something like a thermal detonator." Genides shook his head.

"No, I wouldn't bet all the credits I had on it, even though that isn't very much. While a thermal detonator would be the kind of easily explainable weapon due to the fact that no idiot detonates one in open space and we really don't know what kind of damage it could do, it couldn't have possibly contained itself just to the cockpit. It probably would have done more damage, and this kind of attack seems more calculated than that. No, I would say it was something else, though probably still thermal in nature." Katrina nodded.

"Do you have any idea of what kind of a weapon that would be?" Bastila asked.

"I haven't really been out much lately," Genides said somewhat ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not much of Telos knows what's going on in the galaxy anymore. The only thing I could think of would be something with a specialized kind of detonator, one that could pinpoint the exact moment of detonation the user chose. Now the only planet I know of that used to be big on demolitions is Anelli, but whether that's true anymore or not, I don't know."

"How did you know Carth?" The question came out without her meaning to ask it, and it made her chest ache.

He would be her relation to everything it seemed; on Telos, at the very least.

"Back in the days when he was just a pilot, I was on his squadron's repair crew. He'd bring his ships in broken to pieces, but he'd always stay and fix them up. These other guys would come back, not a scratch on their hulls. But you could always tell Onasi pushed his to the limit." Genides glanced around for a moment.

"He's not uh, he's not hurt real bad or anything, is he?"

She turned around and strode out of the hangar as quickly as she could.


	8. Chapter 8

Bastila's gaze was heavy upon her back, as were her thoughts; trying to parley with hers for information.

"It would seem that Anelli would be the most sensible destination after we've gathered all the information from this planet."

_Sensible Bastila. She wouldn't dwell on what's happening. She wouldn't constantly be kicking herself every moment for not obeying an action she knows to be the wrong one.  
_  
"What do you know about it?"

"I know very little about it. Anelli is one of the few planets that, while being in the realm of the Republic, hardly plays a part in it."

The name sounded vaguely familiar, like someone she had met long ago and could not place the name with the correct face.

Whether it was her false identity as a scout or a place Revan had visited she didn't know.

"Let's not jump to conclusions. Telos still has a lot left to answer." One of the most important would be to find something out about it, besides the vagaries she had accepted from Carth. A planet torn apart by war, and yet that didn't explain their hatred of the Jedi, their obvious lack of any kind of motivation to rebuild.

Hell, she had been through many wars and she was still fighting to rebuild herself.

"We have to find someone with authority."

"The leader of this base is a Commander Knowl. It was he who authorized my landing on the planet. He would not go so far as to allow the _Ebon Hawk_ to land however." Katrina turned back to look at Bastila.

"Then where is it?" Bastila frowned.

"They said they would 'find somewhere out of the way'. I do hope it was not at the expense of angering the few officials left on Telos."

"The few officials?"

"Telos is now made up of a few bases like this scattered on the regions of the planet that are still habitable. There aren't any more than five or six, and when they are not being as suspicious and hostile towards us, rumor has it they are as suspicious and hostile towards each other."

It was at the same time understandable and yet unfathomable that such a planet of paranoid disorganization could be Carth's homeworld.

"Where can we find him?"

"My communication with him was not transmitted to this facility. I can only assume that while he is in charge of it, his base of operations lies elsewhere. He was quite..." Bastila paused, searching for the correct word to describe the leader of a band of reclusive veterans. "...terse with me. We'll have to get out of this facility if we're to locate him."

While she was still an excellent scout, however imaginary her training might have been, she still couldn't navigate in a base designed to keep everyone in and everything else out.

She spotted a younger man, somewhere between herself and Bastila, unloading supplies from a few storage containers.

"Excuse me?" The man raised his eyebrows questioningly but otherwise ignored her.

"How can we leave this base?"

"Through the doors. Now if you'll excuse me."

"Are all you Telosian men afraid of two women?" The man stopped for a minute. His face seemed indecisive on the point of whether or not to smile.

"While pretty women are fairly rare around here anymore, I'm still not willing to talk to two of them that could shock me with lightning if I say the wrong thing."

"We are not Sith, we're Jedi," Bastila added.

"Where's the difference?" Her hands, which had so nicely stayed flat at her sides during her time on Telos so far, now saw fit to grasp the man's arm and wrench his attention to her.

"The Sith turn everything they touch black with death and destruction. They understand nothing but complete domination over everything they know of, and what they don't know of they fear. I am not a Sith."

She very nearly choked on the word 'anymore'.

Bastila stared at her with much the same suspicion that still showed plainly on the man's face, despite her grip on him.

_Let go of him. Jedi do not throttle people to get them to see their way. Jedi do not try and convert the locals with force.  
_  
She forced herself to release him and stepped backwards, trying not to look as sheepish as she felt.

"Well," the young man began haltingly, rubbing his neck. "As long as we're going for long introductions, I'm Nocen."

"Nocen," Bastila continued, her eyes still cast on her, and she could feel their dead weight as easily as a pound of Tatooine ore. "Will you please tell us how we can find Commander Knowl?" Nocen glanced up at Bastila with the clear glass gaze of a pair of blue eyes.

"North past the repair hangar until you find the only set of doors with blaster turrets _and_ guards. Artillery's precious so they reserve it for the doors leading to the outside." Bastila nodded.

She could feel her own failure as if it were a living, breathing being, slapping her on the back with a jovial laugh.

"I'll even lead you there," Nocen murmured, setting down his supplies. "Just to see what Knowl does."

"And what do you think he'll do?" she said, finding her tongue again.

"Seeing as how he wanted to leave you adrift in space, I doubt he'll be too happy to see you at his front door."

Nocen might have just been a supply handler, but he knew his way around the base, which was beginning to feel like a cage with steel walls. He led them down the halls and past the staring workers and guards.

For a while she had tried in vain to figure out how they all knew that she and Bastila were out of place. They had first figured it to be that they were Jedi, whether from their lightsabers or from rumor. Then she had figured it to be that they were women among many men and few women. Now she had given up, settling on the fact that, like another Telosian she had tried to pry information out of long ago, no one here would offer her anything until they were ready to.

"Did you lose much in the war, Nocen?" Bastila asked, another in her steady stream of questioning towards the young man.

Katrina knew she was supposed to be doing something of the same elk, trying to befriend as many as she could. But at the moment, all she could make herself do was follow in morose silence.

"Both parents. A brother or two." Bastila glanced back at her and she shrugged in return.

She imagined everyone on this planet would have a similarly worded summarization of what the war had done to them.

"You must know that we are not the enemy. The Republic did what they thought was necessary."

"I don't doubt they did. But you Jedi, I suppose you thought nothing was necessary?" She recognized that tone. It was the tone Carth used when he had talked about Saul Karath. Bitterness, hurt, and betrayal forced through vocal cords.

At least now it was clear why Jedi weren't exactly welcome on Telos.

She had never been able to blame the Council for that particular sin. She couldn't when she was guilty of a greater evil than doing nothing to aid the Republic in the war: fostering the opposing side.

"The Jedi didn't abandon you-"

"Well, we're here," Nocen said abruptly. Four ancient looking blaster turrets sat near the doors, almost looking as if they were struggling to keep their barrels up in case anyone should wander in. The guards looked similarly rooted in their spots as if they had been bolted there.

"State your name and business with leaving the base." Nocen gestured towards the two of them.

"Katrina." She said nothing more. Bastila snorted impatiently.

"I am Bastila, a Jedi sent to assist in tracking down the attacker of Admiral Onasi. We need to contact a Commander Knowl." The guards seemed unimpressed with this information. Still, they nodded and began the process of opening the doors.

"Coming with us?" she murmured to Nocen. He shrugged.

"Can't hurt to see the sky for a little." She nodded, avoiding Bastila's now irritated face, the one she wore most often when the two were together.

She knew at some point, Bastila would confront her. At some point she would have to answer for these things she was doing, these words that were allowing themselves to escape rather than the ones she knew she was supposed to be saying.

At some point she would probably have to answer for everything, whether she remembered it or not.

She hadn't realized how dark the complex had been until the light broke from between the doors and blinded her momentarily. It was too remnant of the attack and for a moment she was breathing heavily, panicked.

"Been a while since I've been out here." She heard Nocen say, and she knew this was the light of Telos, not the light of her past wounding herself and Carth.

It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust. She might as well have kept them shut.


	9. Chapter 9

"It's a wasteland." The word didn't seem adequate. She searched vainly for another before giving up. 

The sky was a miserable mix of gray and purple. Dead earth lay curling and cracking beneath her feet. The corpses of once tall buildings knelt around them. There wasn't a soul to be seen.

"This is what war looks like. Of course, you Jedi wouldn't know anything about that," Nocen snapped.

"I think I remember now why I don't come out here that often," he said in a softer tone, one less angry and more resigned.

The air was dry, but there was plenty of wind. She wouldn't have noticed it otherwise- there were no trees for it to rustle, no tall objects for it to howl and whistle its route around.

She wondered what the young man might do if he knew she had been the cause of it.

"Is the entire planet like this?" Nocen nodded.

"As far as anyone can tell. No one's really too eager to scout out the entirety of it to find out."

"The Jedi didn't abandon you, Nocen, or your planet," Bastila began again. He rolled his eyes.

"Then where were you? Where were you famed magicians when all this-" He gestured wildly to the sky, the earth, "-was happening?"

"The Council didn't want to rush into a war. Time was needed to-"

"Well, while you were taking your grand time with it, Telos was being burnt to the ground by Mandalore, Malak, Revan and every damned man following them." She heard her name clear as day, enunciated no harder or more forceful than the rest of the rogue's gallery he had named. It still hit her hardest.

She exchanged glances with Bastila.

"If you all hate the Jedi so much, and this Knowl character was so bent on leaving me adrift, why rescue me at all?" Nocen stared at her as if she had sprouted headtails.

"You were with Onasi." Carth spread over her like a protective blanket even when he wasn't at her side.

"Do you know him?"

"Know him? The whole planet knows him. Telos didn't have many heroes in the war that didn't come home dead or as traitors. And after helping to destroy Malak, becoming a Admiral...he's something of a legend now."

And while he had been traveling the galaxy, blaming himself for the death of his wife, the disappearance of his son, and being duped by his mentor, his home planet had been lauding him a hero. The universe was not without a sense of irony.

"And because I was with him, you helped me?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"We're not Sith. We don't leave people to die. Besides, a few Jedi helped him with taking out Malak, or so I hear. Of course, rumors tend to fly about this kind of stuff since Telos doesn't exactly make sure to contact the Republic for the daily news anymore. There was even one pretty wild one about Lord Revan having risen from the dead and somehow defeating Malak with him."

_I am not a contradiction standing here waiting to be found out. I am not the dirty laundry of the Jedi Council. I am not the Republic's little white lie._

There was a period of uncomfortable silence.

"And why is the planet still like this?" Bastila finally said.

"We enjoy it. It helps keep tourists away," Nocen replied mockingly.

"Why haven't you tried to rebuild?" Katrina watched him as he walked in front of them, gazing at the ruins with a weary look that someone of his age shouldn't have had yet.

"Telos barely finds the credits for kolto and rations, let alone rebuilding what it once was."

"But if you petition the Republic. They've helped rebuild other worlds, they'll help Telos too-"

"The Republic," There was a force in his voice that said he didn't want to be questioned on it anymore. "They gave enough to us in the war. They helped as much as they could. We can't ask for more."

They took a few steps into the bleak outside.

"Aren't you coming?"

"And get myself killed like the two of you?"

"You're allowed to leave this base right? I mean, you aren't prisoners or anything."

"Look around you. Is there anything worth leaving it for?" Without another word, Nocen turned and strode back into the base. The doors, steel and a few meters thick, creaked shut.

"I guess you'd call him our official welcoming committee," Katrina murmured.

She didn't blame him. Some small part of her wanted to run and hide in the base too.

"They're on a very unorganized plan of lockdown, it seems. Do you suppose we slipped through the cracks?"

"I think it's more like they don't care what happens to us. Probably happier now that we're not sticking out like sore thumbs amid their lives of color."

Their footsteps made crunching noises over the long-scorched ground.

"They seem to despise the Jedi, and yet they helped you, let me land, and allowed us out of that base."

"Maybe it's one of those 'I help you, you get the hell off my planet' kind of deals."

Carth had never made it sound this bad. Looking around now, she wondered why he had wanted to come back. The planet itself was ruined; its people were probably more irreversibly scarred.

"This search isn't starting off very well, is it?" Katrina said, glancing back at Bastila. "Already we've got a whole planet of people who would all be more than willing to blow me up."

"They'd kill me just as quickly as you. They seem to think you're no different a Jedi than I or any other."

Aside from those two medics, she couldn't recall anyone who had even remotely guessed at her identity. They seemed more upset over the fact that she was a Jedi who had arrived on their planet with their wounded hero rather than a former Dark Lord who had destroyed their planet.

"If they knew differently, I'd have been shot about twenty Telosians with blasters ago."

She was expecting them to hate her, but they hated her for the wrong reasons.

The wind whipped around her face, but still there was not a sound from the surface.

"You still won't answer to the name Revan." Bastila's words hit her harder than the wind did.

It was as if Bastila wouldn't answer to the name Carth. Katrina could not answer to that name. It wasn't hers.

"That's not who I am."

"There's no reason to deny it. You've redeemed yourself for whatever sins there might have been."

_Beginning a war, killing countless hundreds and helping in the resurrection of the Sith and the Star Forge versus defeating my old apprentice. I think it's pretty obvious where the bulk of my sins still lie.  
_  
"They weren't my sins to redeem."

Bastila wisely said nothing. While both were still mere Padawans, Katrina knew there was still a faint line of mentor and learner, and Bastila's wisdom at knowing when to stop pushing was where the point of mentor began.

"What is Knowl going to tell us that we don't already know? I doubt he'll be as friendly as the rest of the locals." Bastila shrugged, the wind tossing her brown hair around to partially obscure her face.

"If there's anyone here who would have the credits and the motivation to launch an attack. Perhaps we can also find out if he is as discouraged as the rest of the planet on the idea of restoration."

She eyed Bastila for a moment.

"Perhaps we can help Telos while we are here," she added, "to repair their relationship with the Jedi."

She didn't want any side quests, any fulfilling of local rituals, any quelling of local disputes. She just wanted to stop whoever had attacked her and go back to Carth.

But she still followed Bastila up the ruined roads. Far off in the distance in every direction, a black shadow seemed to surround them, blacker than the sky or the burned out structures around them.

"What type of region is this?"

"This is what used to be somewhat of a suburban area. Those black areas in the distance I would say are the main urban sites. They were destroyed first and heaviest."

So the burned out structures around her had not been nameless businesses or ports of call. They had been homes, where people had lived. Where Telosians had lived, where Carth might have lived.

"He never told me about any of this." Bastila looked back for a moment.

"I doubt he knew of it."

She bit her lip. It was only one more moment before she tasted the blood from having bitten too hard.

_There is no self-hatred.  
_  
The road, or what was left of it, seemed to stretch on for miles. The dried earth or the ruined structures never seemed to change, and she only knew they were moving further when she looked over her shoulder and saw the base growing smaller and smaller until it could be seen no more.

"Bastila, do you actually have any idea of where this Commander might be, or is it that Council-ego of yours talking again?" Bastila frowned.

"He wasn't transmitting from the base, but he wasn't more than a couple kilometers away from it. It should be around here somewhere."

Something had changed in their surroundings. It caught her scent as if carried on the breeze, and she stood still for a moment, trying to locate it.

Life. That was it. Amid these inanimate memories of objects, there was something very much alive. And she could sense it meant to make her as lifeless as everything else.

"Bastila-" she said, extending her lightsaber. Bastila had already withdrew hers.

"I felt it too."

There were the few moments of waiting, as there always was in battle. Who would be the first to strike, to succumb to the urge to cause harm to someone else.

Too often was it her. Katrina stood and waited for whatever was waiting for her.

Two or three blaster shots came towards them out of the wreckage. Blazingly red amid the pale, muted colors of destruction, they were easy to deflect.

"We mean no harm!" Bastila called out.

_Unless of course, you mean us harm_, Katrina thought wryly.

"Lower your weapons." The voice was authoritative rather than merely a demand from a man in a fight. Bastila withdrew.

"And if he asked you to give him a Twi'lek cantina dance, would you do that too?" Bastila ignored her. Katrina still held her lightsaber out.

Nothing could be trusted until you saw what it was. And she wasn't about to trust a random voice from a planet that hated her enough as who she was and would hate her more as who she really was.

Groups of men started to emerge from around them, about nine or ten in all. They had been hidden sniper-like in the burned out buildings. In the filthy tattered uniforms they wore, they must have blended in well.

She carefully retracted her lightsaber, still holding it in her hand in case she would need it again.

"We are Jedi sent to investigate the attack on Admiral Onasi." She was surprised at how she was still using him as her crutch, as if by waving him around she could deflect all possible hurt.

"Commander Knowl has authorized us to be here," Bastila added.

"Give me your weapons." the same voice growled, as if he hadn't heard them at all. The men all looked so alike Katrina wasn't quite sure which one of them was the leader.

"That depends on whether I'm going to need mine or not," she replied. The man held up his blaster, aiming it straight between her eyes.

"You wouldn't be able to get to it fast enough either way." Bastila wrenched hers out of her hand and dropped both on the ground. They sent up a small cloud of dust from the dry earth.

"There. Now will you take us to Commander Knowl?"

"Don't worry. You'll be seeing him for the rest of your lives. You're under permanent confinement to the planet."


	10. Chapter 10

_Should Carth ever wake up, I'm going to politely suggest that while Telos might be nice for a vacation or two, I wouldn't want to live here.  
_  
They had been put into a holding cell that looked like it had been chewed on by an army of tachs for the last twenty years. Her lightsaber could have sliced through it like tissue. 

Not only were these people paranoid from fearing attacks, they were also delusional in their ideas that they could possibly defend themselves against said attacks with such antiquated and ruined equipment.

But Bastila had said not to anger them. Hacking her way out of the cell and through the local authorities would probably do just that. So instead Katrina sat idly in the corner of the cell, watching Bastila pace back and forth.

"I'm willing to take bets on whether he'll come or we'll rot first."

"The Commander knows we are not ordinary trespassers; that's why we're in here and not dead."

Footsteps echoed down the long hallway that had led to the cell.

"That's probably him now," Bastila said, taking on her airy, regal bearing that always reminded Katrina of a queen unaware that her crown was on crooked.

"Or it could be our executioner," she added, standing up and moving next to Bastila.

From the end of the hallway, she could tell whomever was coming was angry. Aside from the aggression and rage she could feel so acutely through the Force, the footsteps slammed on the metal floor as if it were to blame for the man's troubles.

From about twenty meters away she could spot a wild growth of gray hair atop the man's head, shockingly silver under the dim faulty lighting.

From ten meters she could see that despite an evident anger towards them, he had a look of utter placidity glued to his face. It might have belonged to a droid.

As he neared the cell, she determined that most of this unseen anger was directed towards her.

"Commander Knowl, I am very glad to-"

"I gave you permission to land," Knowl said, cutting Bastila off. His voice betrayed his featureless expression. "Not to leave the base and begin casing the surface."

"I assure you, we were not 'casing' anything. We were in search of you."

"No one exactly prevented us from leaving it," Katrina murmured.

Eyes of a color somewhere between green and blue stared at her in a deranged fashion.

"There is nothing more you required of me. I allowed you to land. I would have allowed you to leave." While his mouth conversed with Bastila, his eyes seemed to be challenging her to a death match.

"I understand your desire for us to leave Telos as quickly as possible, and I assure you we will, just as soon as we go further into our investigation of the attack."

"Unfortunately you will no longer have the luxury of leaving," Knowl continued, as if Bastila hadn't spoken. "I am confining you to the planet, to this cell in fact."

"Why? What have we done, besides venture out on your beautiful lawn for a while?" She struggled to sound concerned and indignant, as a Jedi should, rather than irritated and put-out as she truly was. "I was under the impression that there was no crime in leaving the base. Or do you keep these people locked up?"

For a split second she thought she saw his upper lip curl up.

"Leave us," he murmured to the single guard that had been posted outside of their cell.

"I attempted to do the right thing, to be compassionate," he began calmly as soon as the guard had disappeared into the end of the hallway. "To follow the light, as you Jedi are so fond of saying."

"But some things," His voice became tighter and tighter, as if some unseen hand were clenching it shut. "Some things cannot be stood for."

She sensed that she had angered him horribly, and she had no idea why.

"I apologize if I've insulted you-"

"Insulted me?" he snarled.

She was backpedaling wildly. _Jedi are not brash, Jedi do not make snide comments to an already hostile people.  
_  
"Although I run the risk of being shocked by lightning or thrown against a wall or something of the kind by saying it, I should have ordered you shot the moment they brought you in."

There was a cold, empty moment that was the same as every other cold, empty moment when she realized who someone was mistaking her for.

"I am not-"

"Deny all you want to. It won't change the fact that you destroyed this planet and every family on it, from the scouts that found you to my own." Knowl was a strange combination of exhaustion and livid rage, as if he had been angry all his life but was desperately tired of being so.

She dug her nails into her hands furiously.

"Malak ordered the attack on your planet, not Revan." She recognized the defense Bastila was giving. It was the same defense she had been giving anyone who had made similar accusations in the months following the Star Forge.

It was a defense that she had, by now, picked apart and found many holes in.

"With an army you raised and a mentality you helped create." He seemed to have forgotten Bastila was there. All his words were directed at Katrina now.

_Say something. Say anything.  
_  
"Revan died in an ambush set up by the Jedi. She doesn't exist anymore and you are wasting your anger on the wrong person." None of them seemed very convinced.

"If you've heard of the fact that Revan was rescued and brought back by the Jedi," Bastila began, passing over Katrina's words as if they were embarrassing. "You must also know of the great good she has done since. It was she who struck down Malak and destroyed the Star Forge, and it was she who brought many back from the dark side."

Knowl stayed silent, seemingly too stubborn to concede to either point.

"If you believe I am still Revan, and you still despise me for every wrong I've done to you, why did you help me?"

She seemed to be something she would ask everyone she met. _Why haven't you killed me?  
_  
"Fortunately for you, you happened to be on a ship with none other than Telos' war hero." His tone was a balance of respect for Carth and disgust that he had prevented him from shooting her.

She suddenly had a vision of herself, surrounded, the angry people of this world holding their rusted weapons out like some primal band of Wookies, and Carth lying in his sickbed in the distance; unable to help her, unable to save her.

"Thank you then, for not leaving me to die." The words, a hedging concession, stuck in her throat but she forced them out all the same.

Knowl's seemingly unflappable facial structure allowed its eyes to narrow at her.

"There was no other alternative." Those words seemed just as hard for him to say as hers had been.

"You did the right thing, Commander Knowl, and the Jedi Council is thankful for it," Bastila added.

"The right thing," He seemed to have selective hearing, only paying attention to certain things they said. "Would have been to let you die."

"Then why didn't you?" she asked again.

"Admiral Onasi is one of the only heroes Telos has left. Not only has he excelled where countless others failed, he's a hero of the people. His family suffered as much as any family on Telos. He helped save the galaxy and the whole planet knows it. Now explain to me the correct course of action when said hero is found adrift and comatose near his home world with the Dark Lord Revan lying underneath him?"

She suddenly remembered Dustil's harsh and unforgiving tone: "You supposedly _love_ him."

"Now I am left at a terrifying crossroads of decision," Knowl's face slowly allowed itself to break free, getting redder and redder with each word. "Do I quietly kill you, risking the certain wrath of the Jedi, the Republic, even the Sith for all I know? Or do I let you live? Once the planet finds out who you are, I couldn't keep you from dying anyways. What happens to these people when they discover that one of their heroes is traveling back to them with a Sith Lord in tow and falls into a coma protecting her?"

_I think I'd be hurt worse if I didn't try_. Hearing Knowl's words, she couldn't think of anything worse.

"I let you live, I quickly squelch all rumors as to your identity and allow instead the less insidious one of Jedi. And then I allowed you," His venom spat itself over to Bastila. "To land and retrieve her. It was my hope that the two of you would leave immediately before anyone discovered who I had allowed onto the planet."

"But," Knowl clasped his hands behind his back, the rage gone for now and the exhaustion ruling his features. "Like the Jedi you are, you refused to heed to common sense and instead decided to loiter about the planet, venturing onto the surface and talking to anyone you could find."

"We were not wandering around, Commander. We merely wanted to know more about the planet in an effort to help our investigation and the Telosian people."

"Help the Telosian people?" It seemed for a moment that the rage had taken over again. "You destroy the planet, and then you fail to stop her or do anything about it, and now you're here proclaiming you want to help?"

"There's no better way to earn forgiveness," Katrina said, despite the fact that forgiveness was merely a word to her.

Knowl stared back at her, the same stare she had seen on many beings when they had finished berating her for whatever crimes she had committed against them. The look that said her ultimate crime against them was that she hadn't killed them as well.

"That's something Telos can never give you. And the best thing I can do for it is to keep both of you here forever." He turned around and began down the hallway.

"And what happens when the people of Telos discover what you've been doing?" she called after him.

Knowl turned, a faint smile on his face.

"It would be good for the people if they rallied to do anything so ambitious as to come and kill you."


	11. Chapter 11

In the moments that followed, Katrina and Bastila could only exchange looks of frustration.

"Any more bright ideas?"

"At the very least we now know the extent of Telosian fear and paranoia." The guard turned his head at the word 'paranoia' and Bastila instantly lowered her voice.

"Besides, you were the one who requested to speak with someone of authority." Katrina smirked ruefully.

"I don't think I want to meet anything else with authority around here." She inclined her head towards their lightsabers, lying atop a pile of long-confiscated weapons in a storage bin.

They might as well have been at the end of the hallway for as likely as they were to reach them.

"No," Bastila said quietly, shaking her head.Katrina narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not about to wait around for the lynch mob," she hissed back.

Bastila grabbed her arm, pulling her into the back of the cell.

"Breaking out of here forcefully will only cement their opinions about the Jedi- and you."

She ran her fingertips over the light creases her nails had made in her palms only a few moments before.

"We can't possibly make them hate us more."

"The crew on the _Ebon Hawk_ will doubtless worry over our absence-"

"We can't just wait around and expect them to rescue us!" Bastila seemed torn between indecision and regret over whatever her eventual choice would be.

There was only one guard, and their cell was crumbling at the base. Escape looked easy but, as it had so many times in the last few months, would probably prove to be harder.

"Quietly," Bastila finally whispered.

_Quietly. Right.  
_  
There were a number of options. They could extend and retrieve their lightsabers through the Force, the energy beam enough to knock out the pathetically weak one keeping them in the cell.

That would mean fighting, and it definitely wouldn't be quiet. That would mean striking down the guard outside the cell and any others who came running after them, and probably Knowl too if it came to that.

_That would mean more killing_. The thought had never seemed to bother her in battle before. Now it left her with that same cold, empty feeling.

_No. Another way._

They could attempt to distract the guard or 'persuade' him into letting them out.

She eyed the look of him. He was unkempt and unshaven, but he didn't look tired, discouraged or mutinous in the least. She doubted she could persuade him to let them out, and doubted more he could be distracted. He was now glancing back at them suspiciously every ten minutes or so after having overheard Bastila. Clearly, there was no method of escape that would get them past the energy shield, however weak, acting as the door of the cell.

Katrina glanced around them, as if the cell itself could offer an alternate solution. It was solid steel around them, however decaying and rusted.

Until she noticed the small hatch above her head, barely big enough to squeeze her shoulders through. Probably an air shaft. It was probably sealed or held by a security system long ago, but now it looked dead and harmless. Probably when the compound had been whole and standing, there had been a whole block of holding cells. There had probably been more than one guard then too. It was one of the few instances in which Telos' dilapidation might be their advantage.

She followed the ceiling's maze of wires and bulkheads, looking to see if it led anywhere. A similar looking hatch was in the ceiling outside the cell. Where both led or if they even connected she couldn't tell.

_Well_, she thought, _At least they'll never be able to say this beat up cell could hold us.  
_  
She caught Bastila's attention and looked dramatically up. Bastila nodded.

They waited until the guard turned his back.

Quickly Katrina boosted Bastila up and waited as she unlocked the hatch. She scurried up inside it just as the guard turned around.

The sudden absence of Bastila seemed to startle the guard so much he visibly jumped.

"What is this, one of your Jedi tricks?" he snarled. "Where's the other one?" He hadn't noticed the open hatch above her head.

Behind him Katrina watched the other hatch in the ceiling open up.

"You might want to come over and look for yourself. Maybe I made her disappear." The guard held his blaster alarmingly close to him as he stepped towards the cell, cradling it like it was the last thing he had.

A fleeting thought crossed her mind that for a lot of these people, it was.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Bastila's hands appeared and both lightsabers flew into them. The movement caused a few of the other weapons in the storage bin to jostle. She tensed her muscles, ready to spring for the open hatch above her.

The guard whirled around. There was no one behind him. Panicked now, he made a complete circle and faced the cell again.

"Commander!" he screamed, running down the endless hallway. "The Jedi have escaped!"

* * *

"It should be this next bend," Katrina murmured, despite the fact that she had been ready to say that five more bends in the air shaft ago. 

They wouldn't have much more time to wander around in the ruined ducts of the complex. Any moment Knowl would be notified of their escape, and someone would discover how they had gotten out. Every second she was waiting for blaster fire to begin shooting up at her through the bottom of it.

Finally she noticed another hatch at the end of the way they were crawling. She moved quickly, trying to ignore the various creaks and groans the old metal was giving under their weight.

_We're pretty lucky this whole thing hasn't collapsed on us. But then again we're pretty lucky that half the people on this planet haven't shot us yet. _

Katrina stopped abruptly at the hatch, so abruptly that Bastila bumped into her, unaware that they had stopped.

"What are you waiting for? Open it." She eyed Bastila's exasperated face and decided that it was probably a slight strain of claustrophobia making the Jedi forget about checking for what might be beyond the hatch.

She strained on the release lever. It creaked for a moment, reluctant to let go, and finally opened.

It had led to the surface again.

_It still looks like a wasteland but it's definitely better than that cell._ Both of them tumbled out onto the surface a few meters below.

"I fail to see how any air was passed through _that,_" Bastila said, brushing ageless soot and dust off her clothing.

The complex of Commander Knowl and his ragged militia wasn't very large- sort of a miniaturized version of the base at the other end of the city.

They were either at the edge of the region or near the beginning of another. Large energy fields were erected around them about a hundred meters off. They were beginning to die in some areas, either an effect of the harsh conditions or unknown forces on the other side. What they hid behind them was black and faceless. They now fizzled and sparked every few seconds.

"Do you suppose those fields are just for show?" Katrina murmured, trying to catch her breath.

"Probably separating the uninhabitable parts of Telos from...these parts." 'Habitable' was not exactly a word to describe the part of Telos they were in.

"What makes them any less uninhabitable?"

"They've been bombed beyond recognition. The earth is unstable and no new structures can be built upon them. Probably the once major cities lie in those directions."

Energy fields separating the people from what they didn't want to face, every man for himself and his blaster, barely tangible relations with the Republic and none at all with the Jedi.

For a moment she was glad Carth wasn't here to see what a world that must have once inspired the great honor and courage in him had degenerated into.

The Force interrupted her thoughts as quickly as a sudden tap on the shoulder.

"That didn't last very long," Bastila said, resignedly pulling out her lightsaber.

Two rag-tag groups of guards were advancing on them; One from their right, another from their left. Knowl led one of them.

From where they were standing she could tell it was all the man could do to keep from grabbing a blaster and running towards them.

Without even seeing his face from less than fifty meters away, she could tell it held nothing but hatred.

_There is no humiliation, there is no fear.  
_  
His hatred made her defensive, and her defense was to get angry. Her anger made her tighten her grip on her lightsaber, eager to show all of them that their weakened defenses were no match for two Jedi.

"This isn't going to help anything," Bastilaadded to no one in particular.

"Whether it will or not, we've been more than fair." She didn't like the words that chose to come out of her mouth but at times it seemed as though it was a separate entity from her.

"Look," Bastila nodded towards the holes in the energy fields. "I'm more than willing to bet those fields are weakened enough to allow us to go right through them."

"And it'll probably hurt." That was an understatement. Going through would mean breaking the field, however weakened, and the field would attempt to cover the hole by focusing itself on whatever was in the way.

"We can defeat them easily, Bastila."

She found somewhat surprisingly that she was eager to defeat them, to slice through all of their cowardly, paranoid little bodies.

Her eagerness to do so made her hate herself, and it wasn't a reaction at all as much as sharing Knowl's own opinion of her.

"This is the wiser choice, Revan."

She visibly cringed.

"Don't call me that."

"Ready?" Katrina nodded. They both bolted for the field. Instantly the guards began firing, and they did their best to deflect all of the closest ones.

The field was not far off, but it was hard to run while fighting off blaster shots from people who had probably spent their years since the war doing nothing but learning how to use them. Katrina and Bastila moved as quickly as they could, running sideways and backwards, trying to keep their eyes on both their attackers and their primary goal.

Bastila reached it first. Katrina watched her take a running leap through the field. She passed through it though not without a yelp of pain. The field surged and angrily sputtered around her body until she was through.

_I'd rather burn in an energy field than be shot down before getting to it._ She inhaled and took her own running leap.

Knowl held up his hand, stopping the soldier's assault.

"Do you...do you want us to go after them sir?" the guard asked haltingly, obviously not thrilled with the prospect.

"No. They'll never survive out there."


	12. Chapter 12

_"Good to see you up and about, instead of thrashing around in your sleep." _

She had begun to mumble something about the dreams she had had, and then thought better of plying her new-found companion with her neurosis.

He was eying her with amusement, as if she was waking up with a hangover rather than a concussion from a crash landing.

"I'm Carth, Carth Onasi." One of her first impressions of him was his hair, falling with such carelessness into his eyes that she had a sudden impulse to brush it aside for him.

"Revan."

Wait. This wasn't right.

"Revan!" Katrina groaned. It was Bastila, her mouth obviously somewhere near her ear for how loudly she was trying to rouse her.

The name sounded as out of joint here in reality as it had in her memories.

"What's that smell?" she said, grimacing. The air was pungent with what resembled the stench of rotten kinrath eggs.

"I doubt you're referring to our slightly singed hair. I can only assume it's the product of our surroundings."

If the Telos on the other side of the field had been a wasteland, Katrina was at a loss to find a word to describe this side of Telos.

There was no semblance of color anywhere. The sky was gray and black with storm clouds, bolts of white lightning silently shooting out every few seconds. It was still as a graveyard. Even the sound of their breathing sounded loud and obtrusive amid the finality of silence.

She found that she couldn't breathe through her nose and gasped through her mouth loudly. The air was thick, heavy, and saturated.

"Is there enough air here?"Katrina panted to Bastila, who was breathing in much the same manner.

"The extensive bombing in these areas-"the Jedihad to stop, catching her breath. Bastila's carefully chosen and eloquent words seemed to be too much to say in this air. "-may have tampered with the atmosphere of the planet. There may be less oxygen."

Just how much less Katrina hoped she wouldn't have to find out.

They pushed themselves up from the ground, Bastila stumbling for a moment and grasping Katrina's shoulder.

"Are you hurt?"

"My ankle." Bastila moved it slowly to elucidate the point.

"The Force is helping with the pain, but we'll be in trouble should we have to run again."

She was tired of running. If something threatened them again, she was going to stand her ground despite what Bastila or anyone else said.

Blackened mountains of former structures or local fauna stood around them. In some directions large groupings of dead trees stabbed their jagged limbs into the sky.

"Well, at the very least I doubt there's many people around here to try and stop us,"Katrina murmured resignedly. They began walking forwards. All directions seemed to hold the same thing.

The earth was incapable of growing or supporting anything. In some places it was as fine as sand, in others cracked and decaying.

"Somehow, we must get back to the other side and convince the authorities that we are not the enemy."

_You aren't the enemy. I am.  
_  
"Are you kidding? They'll shoot first and then shoot again and then maybe ask questions."

"We cannot allow relations between Telos and the Jedi to degrade any further. This planet will not survive without all the help it can get."

Secretly she didn't blame Telos for their distrust of the Jedi. The Council seemed to operate in its own world by its own principles, and everyone who doubted their wisdom didn't 'see the light'. She was a Jedi and she was struggling to hide her entire identity.

The Jedi were full of lies.

"Haven't you been listening? They don't want help. What they want is to be left alone to cuddle their blasters and hide in their playpens." Bastila frowned.

It wasn't her quasi-mentor's disapproval that made her feel sick to her stomach. It was the fact that she heard herself say these callous, unsympathetic words and knew that she was responsible for everything there was to feel sympathetic about on this planet.

She had done these things and yet she was standing here saying she would not help repair them.

"Revan, I fail to understand-"

"Why do you keep calling me that?"Katrina said,stopping dead in her tracks, the name like the screech of a mynock and too harsh to bear.

"Why do you fail to answer to it?" Bastila demanded.

The two stood for a moment, facing off.

"That's not who I am."

"It is who you are, even if you don't remember it."

_I do remember it and that is what eats away at me until I can't bear to hear the name._

"You still go to great lengths to hide it, even greater lengths than the Council had been willing to."

_The fact that they were willing to hide it at all speaks volumes._

Somehow, when Bastila called her Revan it upset her more than anyone else. Canderous Ordo had called her it incessantly. Juhani called her it from time to time. Even Carth had called her Revan at least once.

Of course, the one time he had done so had been on the _Ebon Hawk_, right after the name had been shown to her in all its murderous glory to be hers. Right after he had said, in that ice cold tone that she had never heard from him before or since, what he would do to her if she in any way went against the Republic.

The name held nothing but unhappiness for her.

"Do you blame me?" She was trying to yell but the thick air made it come out as more of a wheezing noise. "I'm responsible for this entire planet!"

"But you are not responsible for it staying this way!"

_Jedi do not fight with each other. Jedi do not barrage each other with their personal struggles, despite one of them having helped give them to the other.  
_  
She ignored Bastila's closing remark, continuing forward.

They must have been near one of the major cities. The piles of debris and ruins were more populous and close together.

"I wonder what the name of this place was once," Bastila remarked.

"Right now I'd say 'hell' is a pretty strong contender."

Something shifted in a pile of debris near her right. Katrina held out her lightsaber.

There was no wind to move it. Either the forces of gravity or something living was at work.

"Could anything live out here?" she murmured to Bastila.The Jedismirked back at her.

"We are." Both moved cautiously towards the pile.

"Hello?" Katrina called, half expecting something to crawl out and answer her calmly. At this point, Malak could burst out with his lightsaber blazing and she wouldn't be surprised.

"Don't hurt me,"a small high pitched voice, ethereal and breathless as if carried on a breeze answered. She glanced at Bastila.

"We won't hurt you. Come out from there." A figure finally emerged from behind the pile. It was a young woman, filthy enough to have blended in without them ever noticing. She smiled at them.

"I knew you wouldn't. You're Jedi, aren't you?"

"If you don't hate Jedi as much as the rest of the planet seems to, then yes," Katrina answered.

"Who are you? Are you living out here?" Bastila asked. The young woman was small and moved with speed and grace despite her appearance.

"A lot of us live out here. This is all that is left of Telos. The Telos we used to know, at least."


	13. Chapter 13

_Well. This is rich._

His words made her smile painfully.

"I'm Katrina, and this is Bastila." The young woman returned her smile.

"I'm Waverly." She spoke so quietly Katrina had to strain to even hear her name.

She had come to realize that perhaps separation was also the definition of war; she had seen it everywhere. War led to dissention and distrust, to factions of people with different beliefs and their only common bond being that they were too stubborn to reconcile with the other side.

She was seeing it here on Telos, between the paranoid and depressive people on the side that still had the chance for life, and this young woman, quiet and friendly, on the side that was far beyond death. The sides and the people seemed to be mismatched.

"How did you, or anyone else for that matter, get out here?" Bastila asked.

"And how are you continuing to survive?" she added.

Waverly was silent, and looked around skeptically as if Katrina was wrong and the destruction around them was fully capable of supporting life.

"We've been doing it for so long I guess questions like that catch me off guard." She smiled again apologetically.

"But these are not things to be talked of out here. Come. I'll take you to our village."

It was as if their questions hadn't been asked. The woman had an aura of calm around her.

Katrina glanced around again at her blackened and silenced surrounding and supposed that complete devastation could only lead to a deadly calm.

"I hope this village she's talking about isn't an imaginary one," she murmured to Bastila.

"You would be surprised as to what can be accomplished when faced with the realities of war. Besides, if all the Telosians out here are similarly gifted as this one, they have a decided advantage." Katrina watched Waverly move swiftly in front of them, never a misplaced step. She realized suddenly what she had not noticed before.

"The Force is strong with her." Bastila nodded.

"I wonder if that is the case with all the others she speaks of."

They tried to follow but Waverly moved too quickly.

"Might we slow down a little?" Bastila called out, her usually sure steps now thrown off balance from her injured ankle.

Waverly instantly stopped.

"I'm sorry. We've learned to move very fast out here. If you don't, eventually the earth might give in beneath you, or the lightning might hit very near where you are."

"Or the Telosians on the other side might shoot you?" Katrina added.

They were following very near the borders of the energy field. She doubted there was much to sustain anyone farther out, if indeed there was anything to sustain these people at all. At times it seemed that Waverly would turn and say something to them, but it only sounded like a slight whisper.

"Welcome to our home." The four words were the only they could finally discern from her hushed speech as they came upon the encampment.

The dead hulks of trees had been used as rudimentary shelters, furniture, and walkways over the unstable terrain. Now and then there was a storage bin or footlocker that Katrina knew must have been given to them recently, but they were few and far between. It wasn't much louder than the dead wilderness. Everyone spoke in the same hushed tones that Waverly had, and in the end it only amounted to a buzzing kind of sound.

They were all filthy, and they were all small and thin. Whether this was from malnutrition or some other effect of living out here Katrina didn't know.

"The Force is strong here," Bastila noted.

"Is it the people or the place?"

"A little of both." The man who had answered Katrina's question was tall, much taller than any of the others.

"Welcome. I am Leman, the leader of this little band." So tall, in fact, that she wondered momentarily if he had been elected leader merely from his obvious height over everyone else.

"Nice to find a face without a blaster on this planet. I'm Katrina." Leman smiled; a thin, wispy, pained kind of smile.

"If you don't mind, could you speak a little softer?" She suddenly noticed how everyone, not just Leman, had looked at her as she had introduced herself.

"Sorry," she whispered. He smiled again, this time more genuinely.

"You'll find it's much easier on your lungs as well. We have all learned to say and do nothing unnecessary or very loudly. With the atmosphere being what it is out here, it makes it not only a way of life but a vital part of staying alive."

"Since you have noticed our particular brand of medicine for all that ails us, may I assume that you two are also versed in the ways of the Force?"

"We are Jedi," Bastila answered. Leman nodded.

"I thought so. Your lightsabers, if nothing else, betray you. You'll find you're among welcome company. Many of us, though not all, are Force sensitive."

"Is that helping you to survive out here?"

"Partly, though this area has always been strong in the Force, even now despite its obvious destruction. The Sith could not take that away."

A pang of guilt hit her as she thought of another area that was once a refuge turned into a desert because of the Sith, because of her.

"Why are you out here at all? Did the rest of Telos drive you here because of your abilities?"

Leman slowly seated himself on a nearby log.

"Some of us, yes. Others feared being driven out or hated by their own families, some wanted to be free to practice it. Others are here for their own reasons. Some do not agree with current Telosian politics or practices, and some merely wanted a place where there was no fear, where there was no constant reminder of the things that had happened in the war." He seemed to shudder through his last words.

"But wouldn't being out here, in the middle of the worst of the destruction, be more of a constant reminder?" Leman smiled again.

"Ashes to ashes. It is better here on this black slate to begin a new life rather than seeing the ruins amid life that could be resurrected but isn't."

She was reminded of herself in the moments before they had gone through that last door on the _Leviathan_, the last one before Saul Karath or Malak had opened up their damnable mouths. When Carth had winked rakishly at her and she and Bastila were grinning despite of their predicament.

"And how do you survive out here?" Bastila asked, seating herself next to him.

"While the Force can provide us with many things, it cannot conjure up food or medical supplies. We are helped by some within the base nearby. They cannot give often, but we make do with what we get and are grateful for it."

"It can't be easy," Katrina commented.Leman looked wistful for a moment.

"No, easy wouldn't be a word to describe our lives here. We have lost many, to disease or hunger, some to the unknown forces at work in this destruction. The atmosphere thins year after year and the oxygen grows less and less. Someday this area will be completely uninhabitable to any kind of life, no matter how resourceful. We grow quieter and someday we will be silenced forever."

She glanced in the distance at the energy field. However weakened, it was still a wall separating these Telosian ideals from those on the other side.

"It is a shame you and your followers are not the ones in power on Telos. The Jedi Council and the Republic would be more than willing to help, but those who are in the power don't seem to want anything more than to be left alone." Leman nodded, an ambivalent look coming over his lean features.

"We do not desire power. However, we, like those in power, desire also to be left alone. We desire the freedom that was once on Telos, the ideals our people once held. We desire to be allowed to practice them without having to hide ourselves out here."

"But that would require gaining power. Those things will never happen unless you do something," Katrina murmured. Leman held out his hands apologetically.

"We are not the ones with blasters, my friend. We are not the ones stifling Telos from reclaiming her former glory. Everything can be rebuilt or grown again, and it would only take faith and patience, two things that, I am sad to say, those in power and the people of Telos have not had for a long time."

"But doesn't that make you want to change something? If Telos can be rebuilt, and you know it can, doesn't that make you want to make sure it does?" She was getting louder again and she knew it from the way that more and more people were slowing what they were doing and watching her.

"We are not warriors, Master Jedi. We are mostly the former learned of Telos, tired of the ways of anger. Were we to even attempt challenging them, though the word is not part of our natures, is there any doubt we would be either locked up as agitators or many of us shot even before getting to that point?"

They were no different than the others. Fear, she saw, was universal and despite their lack of anger or paranoia, they were just as afraid as those depressed creatures on the other side of the wall.

_I'm surprised they even took me or Carth in and tried to revive us. You'd think they'd have just said 'Well, they're as good as dead' and left us out there for how much despair they're in.  
_  
"But the planet will not last much longer like this," Bastila said impatiently. Katrina was relieved she wasn't the only one getting frustrated. "Telos needs to rebuild if it is to survive and prosper, and it cannot rebuild without the assistance of the Republic and the Jedi."

"We do not agree with their distrust of the Jedi," Leman added. "After all, it has led to many of us being ostracized from our own loved ones. I understand that decisions such as an act of war are costly and must be thought through before being decided on. Unfortunately, much of Telos takes the Council's decision personally."

_Some of us can't help but take the Council's decisions personally.  
_  
She was tired.

"Help...someone help me..." All three of them turned to see a figure stumbling in from the edges of the camp. He was black as the ground, covered from head to toe in dirt and grit, almost blending into his surroundings. Several rushed over to him as he collapsed to the ground.

Leman was at his side quicker than Katrina or Bastila.

"What was it son? What happened?"

"Tlas and I were out...looking through the ruins. There was a ship-"

The_ Ebon Hawk._ It couldn't be anyone else. Katrina exchanged glances with Bastila.

"It landed...but it sent up so much earth...there was a sandstorm..."

"Was Tlas-"

"No...We made it through the storm...but then some guards from beyond the wall...they killed Tlas...and then they attacked the ship."


	14. Chapter 14

The words of their injured friend seemed to galvanize the group of Telosians, in particular the words 'killed' and 'attacked'. 

She could feel their collective fear clamoring to join up with hers.

"Do you know where the ship was?" Katrinaasked.The young man pointed weakly to the north.

"When they said somewhere out of the way, I certainly didn't think they had meant somewhere uninhabitable and unstable," Bastila said grimly, as they both began in the direction the young man had indicated.

A sizable portion of the village was beginning to gather and follow them.

"Leman, you and your people should stay here. This will be dangerous enough as it is."

"We will not leave Tlas to waste away into part of the ruins." There was a flatness in his voice that seemed to say that bringing back a dead body was the least of the reasons for their following.

They moved as quickly as they could, despite Bastila's ankle and the terrain.

The _Ebon Hawk_ could be seen easily amid the relatively flat skyline and the blackness of everything around them. She had landed in the middle of a large clearing, but the terrain wouldn't hold her for long. Already one of her landing columns was half sunk into the earth and she tilted uneasily up towards the sky. A fog-like haze of black dust surrounded her, a remnant of the storm she had started when landing.

Several bodies littered the ground around the ship. There were several uniformed guards from beyond the energy shield, and the young man Tlas was lying off near the edge of the clearing. Several of the villagers who had followed immediately rushed to the body.

A single blaster shot came firing out from behind the black mist. Katrina deflected it easily.

"Mission? Zaalbar?"

"Be more careful. I almost took off your head." She recognized the voice instantly even before his steely face emerged from behind the fog.

Canderous Ordo stepped out, his face slightly bent in what Katrina had realized was the closest thing to a grin he had.

"Your welcoming party wasn't careful enough," he added, gesturing with his blaster towards the bodies.

"I thought you said you would get tired of babysitting a Twi'lek and a Wookie in a day or so." He had said as much to her when they had all parted ways after the Star Forge.

"They're at least doing something battle-related, as opposed to your busy Jedi touring schedule. Besides, someone had to keep this droid of yours from killing all of them." HK-47 was right behind him, his mechanical clink mixing with their loud breathing to create a sort of industrial sound.

"Statement: Master, it is good to see you are alive. I disposed of the meatbags sent to make sure you were otherwise."

"Don't hold your oil, HK, you had quite a bit of help from me. Damn thing wanted to go charging through that field and massacre the whole lot of them at that base."Katrina stared the Mandalorian, not entirely sure he didn't have a slight urge to do the same thing.

She remembered the villagers behind them. They couldn't seem to decide where to focus their attention; on the still smoking bodies of their countrymen or the Mandalorian warrior who had shot them.

"Your friends seem to have a problem with staring," Canderous said, gripping his blaster.

"Question: Would these meatbags be another angry mob after you, Master? If so I shall be happy to terminate them."

"No!" Katrina hurried to say, waving her hands frantically. "No, these are good people who helped Bastila and I escape."

"A Mandalorian," she heard Leman hoarse behind her.

_Wonderful. I'm trying to coax these people out of their fear of attacks and into rebuilding the planet, and the first thing I show them is a Mandalorian warrior and an assault droid shooting up their fellow Telosians.  
_  
"That's right. Don't tell me this planet hasn't seen them before."

"Canderous,"Katrina hissed.

"They aren't here to attack you. This is our ship, the _Ebon Hawk,_ and these two are members of her crew," Bastila said quickly.

"We didn't happen to shoot a bunch of their relatives, did we?" Canderous said, with no indication that he cared either way.

"Leman, those guards were after us. And they attacked the ship, just like your friend back there said. They shot Tlas, not us,"Katrina continued.Leman seemed overwhelmed with the conflict of her words against the bodies in front of him.

"Look at them and realize what we've been trying to tell you. Unless you and your followers do something and convince the rest of Telos to face their fears and rebuild, this will be the result." Katrina could feel something in her taking over, supposedly that charismatic leader everyone kept claiming Revan had been, but she had never seemed to see in herself. It had only helped her in denying it.

_I guess that's one more thing I can't use to make her someone else.  
_  
"The war you're afraid of won't come from above, but from within. The fear and pain and anger won't go away, they'll just keep festering until Telos turns against itself and its own people. Those on the other side of that wall can't keep existing like that. Eventually they'll come for you if the conditions over here don't get you first, and then they'll destroy themselves and what's left of Telos." She came closer to Leman now.

"You said you believe Telos still has a chance for life. There is no chance unless you help give it to them. Help Telos rebuild." Leman gazed at her.

"Who are you? You are no ordinary Jedi." She could feel Bastila's eyes on her, waiting for her to say it.

_There is no rampant denial, there is no fear that by saying it I will make it true.  
_  
"She is a legendary Jedi, a warrior who led the Republic to victory over my people in the wars." Canderous was saving her, and she made a mental note to thank him for it later.

But Bastila's eyes still bored into her, waiting.

"You...but you cannot be...I had heard the rumors but..." She cringed. There was the astonishment in Leman's voice, and she was only waiting for his guillotine, like so many others before him, to come crashing down upon her neck.

"She is indeed Revan, and she has come back from the dark side and become the Jedi that helped to win the Mandalorian Wars once more," Bastila finished.

She was relieved that she had been saved. Feeling relieved made her a coward, and she hated herself for being a coward.

Leman and his followers said nothing. They stared at her, accepting the truth but not ready to condemn her.

She had to say something.

"Learn from it. Anything can be turned. Telos can be turned from the path that it's on, but only if you stop being afraid and do something about it. The war destroyed many things for this planet, but some of them can be repaired."

For no reason at all she thought of Carth.

"Revan." The name broke from Leman's lips loudly. "Only a person truly turned back to good by the Force would care so deeply to help repair a planet that her past had helped to destroy."

She exhaled, visibly relieved.

"We understand the Force," he continued, "How it can comfort, strengthen, revive, and even redeem. And we cannot condemn you for sins of your past when you have tried today to help us correct them."

"But," She saw that tired look come into his eyes again. "How can we hope to try to change things on Telos? We have no political clout, no standing in Telos' new society. We will need the help of the Republic and the Jedi."

"There's a man on Telos who'll help you." _I will speak of him and I will not picture that broken creature in the sickbay. _"His name is Carth Onasi-" Leman's face visibly brightened. "-and he's an Admiral in the Republic now. I was traveling with him here when..."

_I will say it. I will say it, damn it._

"There was an accident, and he's currently recovering from it." She found herself unconsciously rubbing her arm, the still-recovering scars from her burns hidden by her clothing.

"We know of Carth Onasi," Leman offered. "He was a great leader in the wars as well as a hero."

She wondered momentarily what Carth would think of all this hero-worship when he woke up.

"But if you get a message to him, he can help you. He won't stand for this new Telos once he sees it." _If he ever wakes up and it doesn't kill him first.  
_  
_Dustil_, she reminded herself forcefully. _Dustil is there and he will help_.

"I don't know how we can ever repay you." He seemed unable to look at her as he said it, perhaps a part of him still wondering how he was saying these words to the woman who had helped create this new Telos in the first place.

"As long as there are no blasters pointed in my face when I return here, I'll consider us even."

There was the sound of electrical surge cutting through the silence.

"That'll be more of Telos coming to repay you," Canderous murmured.

"Go." Leman's voice had, at first, sounded unaccustomed to speaking at a normal level, and had faded in and out. Now his volume was steady. "We will go meet them."

"Sure that's a good idea? Rebuilding might be a nice idea, but beginning somewhere other than an angry mob with blasters would probably be a better place to start," Canderous added.

Leman met the Mandalorian's gaze equally.

"We are not afraid. Not anymore."

If any of the villagers questioned their leader's judgment, there was no sign of it. Together they all began to move, swift and sure, towards the energy field.

The earth shook beneath them.

"Statement: This area is no longer safe for you Master. So much movement and weaponry discharge is reacting negatively with the weakened atmosphere and terrain."

The _Ebon Hawk_ groaned behind them, shaking with the earth.

"Let's get out of here before we become part of the ruins," Bastila said.

She had no time to reflect on the nostalgia of the ship as she boarded it, and instead continued straight for the cockpit. Mission and Zaalbar sat in the pilot and co-pilot chairs.

"Long time, no see. But I guess Jedi aren't much for the odd letter now and then, huh?" Mission said, her ever-present grin on her face.

"Have you been flying this thing?" The Twi'lek beamed with pride.

"I figured I ought to get better in case, you know, Big Z and Canderous got into a fight or something."

"You didn't land too badly kid. Think you can get off the planet without killing us too?" Mission rolled her eyes at Canderous but said nothing. Katrina guess the Mandalorian was probably not as tolerant of a lecture from Mission on being called a kid.

The ship shuddered as they began to lift off.

"Easy does it..." The ship took a violent curve and seemed to buckle for a moment.

"This planet ain't the nicest place for casual flying," Mission murmured.

_Not to mention flying for beginners._She braced herself for more turbulence. But to Katrina's surprise, the ship leveled and they took off towards the sky, the blackened earth growing faint behind them.

"Hah! Let old Carth see that one!" Mission exclaimed. She immediately seemed to catch herself.

"Oh...sorry."Katrina tried to think of what he would say if he had seen Mission flying, not the fact that as of right now he couldn't say it if he wanted to.

They broke free of the atmosphere and were in open space. Katrina settled back into a chair.

Somehow it felt so much worse to be off the planet entirely. While she was on it she had vainly hoped that they would have found and shot whatever person had attacked her, that she could have just gone out into the backyard and accomplished the task, then returned inside again.

Now, as they were confronted with nothing but black sky and white stars, she felt how far away he was, how completely she had abandoned him.

Tears threatened her eyes and she battled them fiercely.

"We should contact the Council and let them know of Telos." Bastila's words broke her thoughts.

"And then what? We're not really any closer to our original goal, which was to find the attacker."

"That mechanic, Genides...he had mentioned Anelli as a possible source for the weapon used." Katrina turned to the rest of them.

"Any of you ever heard of this place?" Mission and Zaalbar shook their heads.

"Statement: Anelli's main source of income is rumored to be the production of grenades and mines to be used as weaponry. It is also rumored to be a very politically active planet."

"Within the Republic, you mean?"

"Clarification: Anelli is located within the boundaries of the Republic, Master, but the planet largely ignores its association with it. Anellians are rumored to be heavily involved in the planet's local government."

"This is all just speculation, however?"

"Clarification: You are correct, Master. All of my information is conjecture based on statements you have made." Katrina sat up.

"Statements I've made? You mean Revan...I mean, I've been there?"

"Answer: Correct, Master. You spoke of Anelli occasionally in the past."

"Do you know under what circumstances I was on the planet?" _For example, did I enrage and destroy another local populace, this time one that bases its economy on creating bombs?  
_  
"Answer: Negative, Master. I have no knowledge of when or why you visited the planet."

"That would seem an excellent reason to visit the planet ourselves," Bastila murmured. "Mission, Zaalbar, chart a course to Anelli." Mission nodded and turned to begin punching in the coordinates.

"Katrina?" She reveled for a moment at someone calling her by the name she preferred to hide herself in.

"Yes, Mission?" The Twi'lek turned around in her chair.

"Carth...I mean, well, he's not real bad, is he?"

"He's unconscious, Mission. He was burned badly, but he's alive. He should recover." Mission nodded.

"That's what Dustil said."

"Did he contact you from the base?" Mission glanced back at her oddly.

"No, that's what he said a couple minutes ago when he was sitting next to me."


	15. Chapter 15

For a moment she had gone dumb. Her mind couldn't form the logical connections. It was as if a droid had told a lie; Her knowledge of Dustil's location and the reality of it met each other head-to-head in her mind and seemed stalled there, completely contradicting each other. 

"Mission, are you saying Dustil was on the _Ebon Hawk_?" Mission again looked at her as if she was using her lightsaber to clean out her ears.

"You a little slow today or something? He's on the ship, like you told him to be."

"Like I told him to be?" Her voice was ice, freezing everything in the cockpit, from their easygoing manners to the comfortable paces of their hearts.

"The kid was with that group of guards sent out after you. I almost shot him, too," Canderous said.

"He told us you knew he was coming along," Zaalbar added, and Katrina wondered how the Wookie language, a series of growls and roars, could possibly show the puzzlement that was clearly in his voice.

_Dustil is not there. Dustil is here, on the_ Ebon Hawk.

Something seemed to be churning in the back of her throat and she choked it down, emitting a low growl.

"Don't chart those coordinates just yet," she snapped, turning on her heel and ignoring their confused faces at the back.

Katrina stormed through the ship, passing T3, who chirped a friendly greeting to her only to let out a whine of disappointment as she ignored him.

_Dustil is not there._

It seemed for a moment that she had lost all sense of herself, that this time she had been programmed to remember only those four words.

She stopped at the farthest reach of the ship, in the crew quarters.

_Dustil is not there. Dustil is here. _

He sat on one of the bunks with his hands clasped together, staring defiantly at the floor as if by his will it would obey his every command.

He didn't look up as she entered the room. Only when she closed the door behind her did he speak.

"I-"  
"You what?" Katrina said, this time refusing to back down.

_I won't run away from another fight. Just my luck that he has to be the next one to fight with me_.

"I heard Commander Knowl was sending some men out to investigate a ship on the other side of the energy field. I figured it had to be your ship, so I tagged along."

"You tagged along?" He smiled.

"More like followed them without being seen. Your Mandalorian isn't so good of a shot, fortunately."

"He might be inclined to prove you wrong if you told him so." Her words were so inane and trivial, and she couldn't think of how to tell him how close she was to conscience-numbing anger.

For a moment Katrina couldn't look at him. Dustil the young, the brave, the cock-sure, wearing that exultant grin on his red face and probably thinking he had already won.

Dustil the son of Carth, with his eyes and his smile and his face.

"You lied." The words spat themselves as if they were the crack from the whip of her tongue.

"Lied about what?" She wasn't looking but she already knew the expression on his face. He would have one eyebrow raised curiously, his grin half fallen but still struggling to be upbeat despite her obvious anger.

Carth's face was like a photograph in her mind, and she merely had to flip to the right expression.

"You promised you would stay at the base. You promised you would stay there. I promised him you would stay with him."

_Insolent brat. Deceitful braggart child with no respect.  
_  
The force of her thoughts frightened her. The force of her nails digging into her palms frightened her more.

"I know." His face would fall completely now, faced with his own failure, something Onasi blood did not deal well with. "I know I promised, but I couldn't do it."

"You couldn't protect or stand by your own father?"

She heard the demand in her voice, the unrelenting request for the perfection she knew she did not want or expect but was unequivocally asking for.

"No! I...that's not what I mean..."

"Then what do you mean? I promised him, Dustil! I promised Carth that you would stay with him-"

"He doesn't know you made any damn promise!" Dustil stood up from the bunk now, staring straight at her. She still would not look at him. She paced back and forth in the room, suddenly feeling like it was a whole lot smaller.

"And what's going to happen when he wakes up?" Dustil's eyes got smaller with anger.

"You don't know that he will," he forced out, eachword taking a separate breath to be said.

"That's why someone has to be there, Dustil. You're his son-"

"I'm his son as much as he ever was my father, which wasn't often enough." NowKatrina gazed up at him. He was only slightly taller than her.

He was still that little boy with too much power she remembered from Korriban, and if anything had changed between father and son she didn't see it.

"You're going back down there."Dustil raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'd like to see you manage that."

"You're going back down there if I have to knock you unconscious and throw you in an escape pod myself."Carth's sonsmirked, and she hated him for it, hated how he had the upper hand and would always have the upper hand as long as she loved his father.

"In case you've forgotten, Knowl is hounding for your blood and if you infuriate him any further, I'll bet he'll have the whole planet hounding for it too. You wouldn't dare go back there, even for him."

"He would do the same for me."

"Oh, that's rich,"Dustil shot back, his voice riddled with derision. "Whoever 'he' is, it's certainly not my father, who wouldn't stay for me or my mother, and sure as hell wouldn't have stayed for you."

She could think of nothing else but Carth's eyes boring down into hers in those moments after the _Leviathan_, the same way his son's were boring into her now, condemning and sentencing her for something she hadn't done yet, but could.

"I didn't leave him because I hate him," he added finally, letting out a sigh as he said it.

"Then why did you?" Dustil Onasi leaned up against the bulkhead, his head against his arm.

"I had a lot of time to think while I was waiting around for the two of you to get back from your little victory tour." She couldn't think of anything he had ever said to her that didn't have its roots in bitterness, that didn't somewhere end in anger.

"They were touting him a hero. Everywhere I went, people were slapping me on the back and telling me how wonderful my father was, what a great man I was lucky enough to be related to." Dustil glanced up at her.

"I got angry. I got tired of everyone turning him into a god when all I remember is him always leaving me."

She was tired of everyone turning her into a mass murderer when all she remembered was a scout with a sharp tongue.

"People were...well, people would...they'd never say it to me, but you could tell that they thought I would be next. That I would become another Admiral Onasi, another hero. But none of them knew, none of them could possibly guess..." He closed his eyes.

Embracing the dark side had caught up to him. _As it eventually catches up to all of us. _

"And what does happen when he wakes up?"Dustil said suddenly, advancing on her.

"Do I become another piece of blackmail for the great hero? Son of Republic War Legend Formerly a Sith? Do I turn into another liability for him? Hell, he's got one big enough for anyone sharing a bed with him." She heard 'sharing a bed' and wanted to crawl under the bunks and shiver.

In the eyes of his son, she seemed forever damned to be a piece of arm candy to Carth.

"I was ready to disappear again. He didn't need to know why or how. I even hoped he might forget-"

"He wouldn't have." Dustil eyed her suspiciously but nodded in agreement.

"And then you contacted me, and I saw him." His sentence stopped abruptly, almost as abruptly as she was sure he had when he had first laid eyes on his father weakened, crippled, and completely at his mercy.

"And I still care about him," he said in a large exhale of words, probably louder than he intended to. "I didn't think I would remember it, but he's still my father and I still care about him."

She had been expecting something so much angrier, a bitter rant on how Carth had left him all his life and was now leaving him again. But instead she got his confession, his naked failure and sadness.

"I can't let him wake up and find me sitting there. He needs to see the path I should have taken, not the miserable results of the one I did."

"And that's all he'll see if you make me stay down there," he added, desperation evident on his face. "He'll see me getting angrier and angrier and I'll forget I ever cared about him again."

He wasn't as cocky as she imagined. Only afraid.

"What do you intend to do out here then? This isn't the time to reinvent yourself. I need to find whoever attacked us." He seemed relieved that she hadn't yet followed up on her promise of tossing him back onto Telos.

"I know that, and I want to help."

"You can't help." She was so short, so curt. She wondered when she had become so unyielding, so uncompromising.

Katrinawondered if she was only like that with Dustil or with everyone else.

"He was right,"Dustil said, breaking into a rueful smile. "You really are the most irritating woman to talk to."

"You've got a nice lightsaber," he said suddenly, sounding uncertain, almost nervous. The sentence seemed totally out of place amid their heated argument, and she shook her head, staring at him.

"What?"

"Haven't used mine in months, but I've still got it." He pulled it from the depths from his jacket for emphasis.

_Oh, hell_.

"I-"  
"No."

She knew exactly what it was he wanted now.

"Put that thing away and go back to your father." He was angry again, glaring at her.

"Look, I'm making an effort here, and I need your help."

The Jedi weren't an effort. The Jedi were an all consuming force that took precedence over everything you did. Or in her case, everything you are.

"You're too old, and you're too angry. No."

"You're older, though not by much, and if you're a ball of sunshine then I'm a kath hound."

She tried to accept the fact that Dustil Onasi was standing in front of her, asking to become a Jedi. It wouldn't allow itself to be true, not against the fact that Carth Onasi was still lying comatose on the planet below.

"Revan was a Jedi long before I was." He furrowed his brow for a minute at her circular logic, then shook his head.

"You'll fall back,"Katrina added.

"I won't."

"That's exactly why you will," she countered.

She tried not to remember Dustil wielding the lightsaber, the way he had held it out at them menacingly on Korriban, the way she had been shocked to learn that he was knowingly pulling a lightsaber on his own father.

There was Carth on the surface, and there was his son in front of her. There was what she was doing and there was what she was supposed to do.

Right now she was confused as to which one her current actions were part of.

"Look," She could see everything now in his face; the exasperation and the anger, the mounting hatred and the impatience. She could see them so well that it was not unlike looking in a mirror. "You need me to like you, and the only way I'm going to do that is if you'll help me." He was trying to bait her with Carth and it only made her hate him more.

"I don't need you to like me, Dustil. I don't even need to like you myself." He set his jaw, the jaw of his father, stubbornly at her. She turned her back on him.

She didn't care anymore.

"Go back to Telos where you belong," she snarled.

"Go back to the Sith where you belong." There was a second in which she let his words register, in which she found verb, subject, and noun all neatly in place.

And then there was the next second, in which she stretched out her hand, turned around, and watched Dustil lift up off the ground and slam into the steel bulkhead behind him.


	16. Chapter 16

_"You lied to me, Bastila." She had heard every word of Malak's, the disappointed exhale from Carth as the dark lord spoke, as if he had known already but expected to hear differently. _

"I had no choice, Revan." The name slipped from Bastila's lips so easily, so comfortably.

She could feel a burning sensation somewhere within her chest, and she stared morosely at the steel plating beneath them.

Those millions of people dying, the ruined and destroyed Taris, Telos, and hundreds more, those same atrocities she remembered saying she could never see herself doing:

She had done them, for the whole universe to see.

She was overloaded and she couldn't think straight. Her memory seemed wiped for a moment and she was merely a woman with a lightsaber standing inexplicably before the dark lord.

An angry woman with a lightsaber, enraged by the woman and those she represented behind her and still more enraged by the icy smugness of the creature and those he represented in front of her.

All through his words she had been slumped over, her weapon dangling uselessly from her limp arms, her head bowed in shame.

She felt their eyes on her; the pawn and the queen already checked and mated.

I am Lord Revan.

_"You seem to be forgetting one thing, Malak," The voice that she had long thought to be someone else, to be that little devil who sat on her shoulder and whispered her guilty pleasures to her, now showed itself in all it's wretched glory to be her voice. A red miasma clouded her vision and she slowly looked up at Malak, a scarlet demon before her. _

She felt her lips curl up painfully into a snarl.

"I'm still alive."

* * *

There was the feeling of something being lifted. She tried not to think of the words 'cloud' or 'veil' or 'mask'. 

'Mask' especially. The definition of that word was a picture of Revan, every inch of humanity shrouded behind it.

Whatever had come over her left just as quickly, and she seemed to be merely a woman standing in the crew quarters, a young man now lying on the floor in front of her. She watched him push himself up shakily, leaning back against the wall and holding his nose in his hands.

_There is no sudden realization. There is no rampant denial.  
_  
Dustil was glaring at her, as much as he could with his hands clasped over his face. His nose was bleeding, and when coupled with the look on his face he was remarkably similar to an angry rancor.

She glanced at her hands, as if they were to blame. Slowly she crossed the room and sat down on the floor beside him.

"Just like Master Uthar used to do," Dustil murmured nasally, letting go of his nose and leaning over.

She stared at him, resting her arm upon her knee.

"How was he when you left him?" She couldn't think of anything in the way of an apology, anything that could sufficiently say 'I'm sorry I used the Force to slam you into the wall'.

Dustil hesitated, watching her as if she might shock him with lightning next.

"He's out of the coma, but he's not really coherent."

"If he was," he added. "I probably wouldn't have left."

Dustil Onasi had left his father to sneak onboard the ship and try to become a Jedi. The fact saturated her brain slowly and she allowed herself to accept it.

And then she had gotten drunk with hate and shoved him against a wall.

She nodded, the moment for forgiveness lost to her forever.

"Do what you feel is right, Dustil. I won't try to stop you."

Her only defense, the protection of Carth, now lay tattered in the wind, replaced by the white flag of surrender.

_I left him. I left him, and Dustil left him, and he's alone.  
_  
"I won't do this halfway. I promise you," Dustil said, watching her closely as she stood up.

"Promise whomever you like. I won't try to stop you, but I'll be damned if I'm going to help you." His eyes narrowed again.

"So you won't train me?"

"We'll head to Coruscant and meet with the Jedi Council. Take your notions up with them. They'll be merciless, Dustil," she added, watching the slight excitement on his face deflate. "They'll drag up your past and your reasons, however noble they might seem to you, for joining the Order. If they find you worthy-"

_Worthy to live, worthy to have the remains of your psyche drained and replaced with a new one, only to find it's broken too. _

Katrinasighed.

"If they find you worthy, then go ahead with your plans and be damned like the rest of us." She turned to leave him.

"You aren't exactly the best spokesperson for the Jedi Order," he called after her.

His face now would be nothing like she usually expected. It would be calm and honest, unflappable and waiting patiently for her reaction.

"They say I'm not the best spokesperson for the Sith either."

Katrina left him there, still nursing his bloodied nose.

Bastila stood in the corridor, and she stopped upon seeing her.

She could think of nothing to say to Bastila, who had undoubtedly felt it, that surge of rage that she couldn't have hidden from her if she wanted to. Their bond was something no amount of willpower could break.

"We'll inform the Council in person," Bastila finally said. Katrina nodded.

"Tell Mission and Zaalbar to punch in the coordinates for Coruscant. Tell them to try and keep it quiet when we get there." She had no wish for a crowd to gather, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Jedi that was rumored to have been a dark lord and the famous Republic war hero who had fallen.

She walked on towards the middle of the ship, ignoring whatever suspicions she knew Bastila had been ready to confront her with.

T3 turned to her, but made no noise. She smiled at the little droid.

"Sorry, T3. Didn't mean to ignore you."

"Bleep-woop-woop-bleep."

"Good. I'd hate to have you mad at me." She resisted the urge to pat the droid on the head, thinking fondly of how they had raided the Sith military base on Taris, how T3 had stunned a trooper ready to stick his vibroblade in her back. Handy to have around, even if he did lack the battle finesse of HK.

Katrinacontinued back towards the cockpit.

"Observation: Master, you seem agitated at the presence of the meatbag Onasi's offspring on the ship. Shall I dispatch him for you?"

Then again, T3 also thankfully lacked HK's delight at destroying anything that moved.

"No, HK, though I might take you up on that later," she said, rubbing her neck ruefully.

"Anticipation: I look forward to it, Master." She watched the droid out of the corner of her eye, trying to convince herself that there wasn't a gleam in his metallic eyes.

"I didn't just stick my headtail in my mouth or something, did I?" Mission asked.

"Don't worry about it." There was such an edge to her casual reply, such a command of _drop-it-and-leave-it-alone_ that Mission instantly turned back around, busying herself with the controls.

Katrina slumped down into a chair, handling her lightsaber idly.

Bastila followed her in, pausing for a moment, as if by a few seconds of patience she could command everyone's attention.

"Plot a course for Coruscant. We must meet with the Jedi Council before continuing on our mission." Canderous snorted.

"I guess the rest of us will just wait until you conduct your séance."Katrina bit her lip in an effort not to smirk along with him.

_There is no guilty amusement at making fun of the Council. There is no inward derision for the ideals I am supposed to believe in. There is no guilty feeling that I am a Jedi failure.  
_  
"Do not mock the Council, Canderous," Bastila said, the disapproval taking over in her voice, a tone Katrina was all too familiar with.

"I have no respect for an order that takes no glory in its accomplishments, no pride in its victories." His tone too, she was all too familiar with; pride, arrogance, and the undeniable knowledge that you were right.

"Victory over my people; there is an example the Jedi could use more of." _Yes. Follow my example. Begin a war and win, then come back and begin another on the opposing side.  
_  
Mission and Zaalbar began to punch in the coordinates for Coruscant, a comfortable silence taking over the cockpit.

She watched Telos (Carth; the two seemed to equate each other now) getting smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared.


	17. Chapter 17

_Dustil glanced around, nodding approvingly. _

_"Looks like someone finally took a broom to this place."_ That's an understatement.

_Telos was nothing like she had remembered it to be. If she wasn't sure of the exact coordinates of the planet, and the innate knowledge that gave her a slightly tingly feeling knowing that Carth was here, she might have mistaken it for somewhere else. _

The purple sky she remembered had subdued to a lavender-bluish color. Ruins were halfway rebuilt and those that weren't wore signs designating when they would be. Large buildings and structures lined the newly built walkways, not compact and pulled together with spit and bailing wire like the structures before, but made up of a graceful, sweeping architecture she could only assume had always been the Telosian style.

The mark of the Republic was on everything being rebuilt, but the growing trees and grass denoted the unmistakable touch of the Jedi.

"A decided improvement," Canderous said. Dustil turned back, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look of yours, kid. I give credit where credit is due, even if my people might have helped destroy this planet in the first place." Her Padawan smirked. There was a begrudging respect between the Mandalorian and the Telosian- much like she remembered between the Mandalorian and the Republic war hero.

She swallowed hard. 'I left him' didn't seem quite so damning now that she could add 'and now I've returned' to the list.

"I wonder if it is just this settlement being restored or if similar operations are being carried out all over the planet," Bastila murmured.

"We'll know soon enough," she replied.

* * *

Katrina couldn't think of a more polar opposite to the planet she had just left than the one she was stepping onto. 

Coruscant was nothing but development and revitalization- always something new and revolutionary. She wondered if, at one time, Telos had ever been more than a shell-shocked badlands.

Enough. She wouldn't think upon Telos anymore.

_Of course, it's pretty hard to keep it off your mind when Dustil Onasi is following you_.

He observed the cityscape of the planet with an expression of interest and feigned boredom. If he had never seen anything of the kind before, he was making a good show of acting nonchalant about it.

"Hopefully we can make it inside and to the Council without having to sign any holoprints," she said to no one in particular.

It was doubtful she would get any offers of that nature at all. Carth was the star, the Republic's shining hero. He was the one the crowds flocked to see and congratulate.

It was more likely she would get the stares as always. She was not the hero; she was the mysterious Jedi on the arm of one. The Council had not been foolish enough to proclaim her true identity to the whole of the galaxy, but it was heavily hinted at and rumored of. The fact that they were only unconfirmed rumors was the only thing that saved her from mobs demanding war trials and retributions rather than holoprints.

That and there had always been Carth, smiling somewhat tiredly at adoring fans and ushering her away from prying eyes.

"We shouldn't tarry. The Council's time is valuable." Katrina nodded in acknowledgement, following Bastila's hurried steps.

Normally she would roll her eyes. But this was no mere mini-council, appointed to look over a fledgling enclave. This was _the_ Jedi Council, who presided over the entire order. Keeping them waiting wasn't likely to win her high marks among some of the skeptics.

Even the Jedi weren't entirely in agreement about her return from the dark side. Some seemed to believe that to be a dark lord once was to be a dark lord forever, and nothing gave them greater pleasure than lecturing her on the dangers of her past.

She didn't need reminders. There were plenty built into her everyday life.

"This is kind of a trial by fire, isn't it?" Dustil called out, stepping up his pace to catch up next to her.

"You don't walk before you run with the Jedi. You fly." She glanced back at him. If he was nervous, he wasn't hiding it as well as his reaction to Coruscant.

"You don't have to do this, Dustil." He straightened up.

"I'm not afraid." He couldn't have been less convincing if he tried. Katrina shook her head and continued on.

The halls of the Council alone were sometimes enough to break her reluctance to buy into all she was supposed to believe. They were solid as any tree on Kashyyk, unbreakable as any volcanic mountain on Korriban.

"Well, well, the outlaw Jedi returns." The voice that called out to them was instantly recognizable. It was always slightly bemused.

"Jolee!" Of course, as solid and unbreakable as the halls were, they were still penetrable by Jedi like Jolee, whose wills were stronger than any kind of building.

"What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, eh? Reports of a rogue starship blasting off Telos, wanted by the authorities...wouldn't have been you, would it?" The old man's face wrinkled up with his smirk.

"What are you doing here?"

Jolee raised an eyebrow.

"Am I a Jedi or aren't I? You going to tell me I don't belong here, that I don't have the proper devotion?" As she remembered, Jolee had simply sat back and observed the Republic's celebration over the destruction of Malak and the Star Forge with his usual keen eye for overzealous patriots. She remembered saying goodbye to him and his rambling response as to his plans afterwards. She hadn't really remembered any plans.

_Then again_, she thought to herself with a wry grin, _Jolee often hides one gem of information amid mountains of bantha fodder.  
_  
"Well, now that you mention it-"Jolee held up his hand, chuckling

"Never mind; don't answer that. You'd best stay in the old man's good graces since I'm on your panel of judges now."

"You're joking."

"The Council has asked you to join them?" Even Bastila seemed suitably astonished.

"The two of you getting senile or something?" Jolee said irritatedly. "Yes, I'm an official card-carrying member of the Jedi Council now. I guess they decided they needed a voice of reason among the Force-happy and the Sith-depressed. I'm their medium, in any case."

It seemed shocking that the Council would even ask Jolee, who was even less respectful of Jedi ideals than she was, and even more shocking that Jolee would accept.

"Are the two of you finished gaping at an old man, or are you going to tell me who this kid with you is?"

"Dustil Onasi, Master Jolee," the younger Onasisaid easily, with only a moment's hesitation.Katrina glanced back at him. Dustil stood almost at attention, watching Jolee as he might also shove him into a wall if he displeased him.

Jolee laughed.

"Here's a character- known me for all of thirty seconds and already I'm his master." He paused.

"Carth's your old man, huh?" Dustil nodded, but offered nothing more.

Jolee didn't push it. Katrina had never known the man to push anyone into anything. Goad and cajole, maybe, but never push.

"I'm sorry about that," he continued, his voice much more sober. "He was a good man."

She heard 'was' and felt overcome with the urge to take them all to his sickroom, to point frantically and cry out 'see, see, he's still alive'.

_Of course, 'alive' is a pretty relative term_.

"They've been waiting for the two of you, so we'd best go in." She and Bastila followed Jolee.

"So I guess I'll just...wait here then?" She heard Dustil call after her.

The Council sat, poised and collected in their chairs.

The same disconcerting feeling came over her, as it did whenever she stood before the Council: the feeling that they somehow knew every single thing that had happened to her since the last time she had stood before them. She still remembered blushing to her ears trying to bury the memory of sleeping with Carth at their last meeting.

"Greetings, Padawan Bastila, Padawan Revan." _From a padawan to a knight to a lord and now back to a padawan._ At times she couldn't decide if Revan was living her life over or if she was living an entirely different one.

Master Vandar, one of the few Jedi on the Council whom she was familiar with, watched she and Bastila as they bowed respectfully.

"We have heard reports from Telos," he began, pausing for a moment as if to allow them to explain why they had to make a jailbreak from a Republic planet.

"I assure you, Master, we made every effort for a peaceful cooperation with the local authorities," Bastila answered.

"And yet," Master Ahniuk interrupted, "We have heard through Republic wire reports that two Jedi were imprisoned, escaped, and led a chase through the Telosian badlands before escaping on their ship."

Katrina sighed. At times, Ahniuk, a tall Twi'lek with eyes of steel, was an uncanny substitute for Master Vrook.

"Diplomacy didn't go over too well, eh?" She struggled not to smile. Jolee would certainly be a welcome addition to the Council, in her eyes anyways.

"The officials on Telos, if you could call them such, are highly distrustful of the Jedi, Master," Bastila explained.

"Not surprising," Joleemuttered under his breath.

"What do you mean by that, Master Jolee?" Ahniuk asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No disrespect, of course," Jolee added, though not with the same earnestness.

"The rest of the Council would appreciate your insight, Master Jolee," Vandar said.

"The Sith use the Force; the Jedi use the Force. Telos is a loyal Republic planet; the Jedi didn't join the Mandalorian Wars until it was neither popular nor needed." Jolee stopped, as if it was obvious to everyone. When he found everyone was still waiting, he sighed, exasperated.

"Good and evil are ambiguous things, Master Vandar. The people of this planet look at our actions, not our beliefs." Vandar nodded approvingly. It seemed to be more of a proving exercise that Jolee was an asset to the Council than something that actually needed to be explained.

Katrinafelt herself getting irritated at the Council, at their little tests, their little secrets.

"We approached the resident commander of the base, and he was very...uncooperative as far as our inquiries into the attack," Katrina continued.

Vandar raised an eyebrow.

She saw that 'uncooperative' would simply not cut it as far as explanations went.

"We angered him by not leaving the planet immediately. He intended on locking us up-"

"He was aware of Revan's true identity," Bastila finished quickly for her.

"The entire planet was not hostile," she said, a little too hostile herself. Anything was better than Bastila's words hanging over the air. "We escaped imprisionment and fled to the almost inhabitable parts of Telos, but we were aided by a group of rogue separatists."

"Many of them are Force sensitive, and do not share the distrust of the Jedi that the rest of the planet does," Bastila murmured.

"Perhaps these sensitives may aid in the repair of the relationship between Telos and the Jedi," Ahniuk said.

"We were able to convince them of that very thing, Master." _Of course, we had a little help from the angry mob on the other side having shot one of their own.  
_  
"It is our hope that Telos will be much repaired by the time we return to it," Bastina again finished.

Vandar shook his head.

"The Council has done it's best to keep your identity a secret, Revan, but we fear we can only do so much. Inevitably, there will be those who discover it and mean you harm."

"I sense your thoughts are with Admiral Onasi," Vandar continued, and she pretended she didn't see the slight twinkle in his eye despite the circumstances.

The Council had never said much on the subject of love and a Jedi, in her case at least. At times she wondered if they indulged her because they feared her going to join the Sith if they refused.

"Admiral Onasi is recovering on Telos, Master Vandar,"Katrina answered mechanically.

"Sad this is that innocent people are hurt from these feelings of rage, the desires of the dark side for revenge and recrimination."

"Which brings us to the matter that the Council has charged you with," Ahniuk said, straightening up in his chair.

"Have you any knowledge of the circumstances of your attack?"

"The technical crew on Telos that began repairs on our ship seemed to believe it was a special kind of weapon, a highly specialized detonation device that could be localized and controlled down the exact second of detonation."

"The common belief as to the origin of such weapons seems to be the planet of Anelli, rumored to base its economy off the production of detonation based weapons."

This seemed to galvanize the Council. They glanced around at each other, their eyes having conversations Katrina could only fathom about. Only Jolee looked pointedly at her, still bemused and looking as if he knew all this would happen beforehand.

"The Council is in agreement that this planet is where you should continue your search," Ahniuk finally said.

_How could you be in agreement? None of you said a word.  
_  
"Yes, Masters," Bastila automatically replied.

"Master, might I ask what Anelli means to the Council? Has it any special significance?" Vandar seemed to look at each member in turn before responding.

"The Council knows nothing of this planet, Padawan Revan. We advise you to gather as much information as possible, and report back to the Council."

They were lying. She knew they were lying and it made her grit her teeth, the grinding making a slight hum through her pained smile.

"As the Council wishes, Master Vandar."

"Then nothing else remains than hope that the Force is with you in your undertaking."

Jolee cleared his throat loudly.

She remembered Dustil in the hallway, getting a sudden mental image of him up against the door of the Council chambers, straining to hear. The image made her smile in spite of herself.

"There is one more matter, Master. A young man has accompanied us, and he wishes to become a Jedi."

"This is hardly the concern of the high council, Padawan," Ahniuk said reproachfully.

"I understand, Master, and I told him as much-"

"Revan helped to turn him back from the dark side, Master Ahniuk," Bastila added.

"He's a former Sith-"

"He's Admiral Onasi's son." Katrina shot Bastila a glare.

Vandar nodded.

"His wish then, must be carefully weighed and considered. The Council is grateful you have brought this before us instead of acting rashly and beginning his training without our consultation."

"But I have no desire to train him!" She realized instantly how loud, how desperate she had sounded. The stares of every member of the Council would have told her even if she hadn't. Katrina straightened up.

"Should you decide that he is worthy to begin the training, Master, I ask that you not put his training into my hands. I feel that our personal relationship-"

_Personal relationship? Right, Katrina. Keep telling yourself you and Dustil Onasi have any kind of functioning relationship.  
_  
"-would interfere with the kind of unbiased and impartial guidance the training of a Jedi requires." She heard Jolee snort, then attempt to cover it up, resulting in a kind of loud cough.

Vandar nodded approvingly.

"Your foresight does you credit, Revan. We will meet with this young man presently, and may the Force be with you."

"And with you, Masters." She and Bastila bowed again, exiting the room. Jolee followed them out.

"Alright, old man, out with it,"Katrina snapped, turning on him the moment the door was closed.

Jolee narrowed his eyes at her.

"You want anything out of me, missy, you'd better find a more wheedling way of doing it."

"I could feel the deception in there thicker than rancor spit. What are they covering up from me this time?"

It was taking most of her willpower to keep control over her emotions. Should she let the overwhelming anger and irritation she now felt nipping at her heels out, the Council would sense it in moments.

"Ah no, you're not getting me here. I may be old, but I still know how to play the field. I won't become the Council's rat."

She felt her anger turn to hurt, her irritation to pain. Each alone was harder than any kind of anger to mask.

"Jolee, don't make me find out from another person who wants to kill me. Let me hear it from a friend. What is the Council hiding?" He gazed at her sympathetically.

"Good words, lass, but not enough. You shouldn't hear it from me. Some things you need to discover on your own, and not have them told to you."

She struggled not to be angry with him. Still, she didn't know which would have been worse- hearing it from Malak or seeing it in some ancient Jedi archive years later.

"You'd better tell that young man to go in before he breaks his way in with a lightsaber."Katrina glanced over at Dustil, standing off to the side with his arms folded. If he had heard their conversation, he made no indication that he had any interest in it.

"They're waiting for you," she murmured. He smiled, visibly relieved.

"Thank you. I know it cut your teeth out to do it, but thanks." He stood for a moment more, awaiting the standard professions of welcome or reciprocation of good feeling.

When he got nothing but her empty scowl, he walked past her and into the Council chambers.


	18. Chapter 18

"Should you accidentally extend that, you'll get no sympathy from me." Katrina paused, letting her lightsaber float in midair. Bastila rolled her eyes. 

Between tossing her lightsaber up and down and staring out the windows at the city, mulling over everything as Bastila was doing, the former sounded more appealing.

"How long do you intend on waiting here?"

They had been in the Jedi halls for an hour or so. At first Katrina told herself she was waiting for Jolee, to try and extract more information out of him.

It didn't take long for her to admit to herself that she was waiting to hear the Council's decision on Dustil.

She couldn't help feelings of nervousness, that she had unwittingly brought a malfunctioning blaster turret into the middle of Jedi headquarters. Part of her still wanted to hog-tie him and drag him, kicking and screaming, back to Telos.

She couldn't help fearing failure, that she would make some mistake, break some unwritten rule and end up ruining things between Carth and his son. Even if said son was choosing to begin a path she wanted no part of.

Bastila sighed heavily.

"Look, if you're so sick of waiting around, just go back to the _Hawk_."

"And what would I do there? I am a Jedi, and I belong near the Council while they make their decision."

"How does a decision about Dustil concern you?" Katrina said, far more nastily than she intended.

"Bastila, just a moment ago you were complaining about waiting, and now you want to hear their decision? If you had just kept your mouth shut in there-" The Jedi raised an eyebrow at her, a look Katrina had by now memorized.

"While you made a foolish blunder because of your pride and denied a young man the chance to redeem himself?"

"You weren't there, Bastila. You weren't there when Carth and I found him on Korriban. You didn't see what he was like." That look he had given her even then, even before knowing how she felt about his father; how much hate there had been.

"He was ready to kill us. Had any of us chosen a single wrong word, I think he might have tried to take us all on, his own father included." Even Carth had been afraid of him that day.

She remembered the desperation in his voice, something she had never heard before, and the pleading, as if he too had somehow known it would end in death if he didn't do it right.

"Everyone deserves a chance for redemption, _Revan_." In the end, no amount of logic could ever withstand the withering truth of that name. Her name.

"He'll only fall again."

"And you set him up for that fall even before he begins! With the proper training-"

"What, like the training we got?" Bastila was silent. She waited for the awkward, uncomfortable moment to pass.

"Bastila," Katrina said, lowering her voice, though it wouldn't do her any good. Should she get too upset, the Council would know it anyways. "It's not just Onasi paranoia rubbing off on me, is it? You felt they're hiding something too, right?" A look of frustration crossed Bastila's features.

"Yes, I felt it too. This time they've chosen not to inform me either."

_Would you even tell me if they had?_ She struggled not to let the bitterness in her thoughts invade in her expression.

"It's got something to do with that planet, whatever it is."

"More likely it is in relation to your past association with the planet." Bastila sighed heavily again.

"It does no good to brood over what these things might or might not be. We must trust the Council's judgment and wait until Anelli to discover them." She noticed how lately Bastila's tone concerning the Council had become as repetitive as a protocol droid's greetings. As much as she had loathed hearing them, Bastila's former lectures on the wisdom of the Council had at least contained the spark of determination and true belief in them. Her current ones seemed worn out.

"You couldn't be less convincing-"

"Here they come," Bastila said, cutting her off sharply and nodding towards the approaching figures of Jolee and Dustil.

His face was flushed. Whether that was from disappointment or elation, she didn't know.

"They-"  
"What-"

She stopped, frustrated, but Dustil's excitement seemed to overshadow his irritation.

"I've never...I mean, I've never been through anything like that before. So many questions...and they tell you the answers rather than chastising you for even asking."

His enthusiasm, his exhilaration left her aghast.

"What was the Council's decision regarding your training?" Bastila murmured.

Dustil positively beamed.

"They agreed. They said they'll allow me to begin the training."

Katrina glanced at Jolee.

"Don't give me that look, missy. It didn't take my stamp of approval for this boy to start down this path. Still got it, nonetheless." He patted Dustil on the shoulder.

They were all making her sick and she felt like breaking down the doors of the Council, demanding to know everything.

Did none of them see? Did none of them understand what would happen should Dustil fall again?

"Are you to remain here to begin your training?" Bastila was asking everything she should have been, but she still stubbornly stayed silent.

Dustil's elation deflated. He avoided her gaze.

"Well, no. The Council feels that having been a former Sith-" She watched him shudder involuntarily as he said it. "-that I should have the guidance of a few Jedi who've been through the same thing." He paused, either for effect or out of fear.

"They've decided to send me and whatever master they choose for me along with you."

_Have they lost their minds?_ Visions of Dustil's cocky smirk rose up in her mind instantly. Images of him running ahead, running away, fighting, falling, dying.

"What do you think this is, a field trip?"Katrina finally snapped. Dustil glared back at her.

"I'd just as soon stay here than go. They seem to think you have something to teach me."

"I want no part of training you." There seemed to be the Katrina saying these things, the angry part of her that saw all this for what it was and what it could turn into.

There was also the other Katrina, a small and silent one that saw Carth's face with every unkind and unsympathetic word that passed between son and bedmate.

"Revan, why do you resist this young man's training so? We need all the Jedi we can to aid us in the fight against the Sith. Some of our strongest members are those turned away from the dark side and working to be redeemed."

_Quite easy for you to say, Bastila. Quite easy for you all to say when you're not in love with the young man's father.  
_  
"He's not doing it for redemption. He's doing it to please his father."The younger Onasi'seyes clouded over for a moment.

She was afraid of him again, and she stared back, trying not to show it.

"You wouldn't know anything about it, so if I were you I would just stay out of my way." Dustil turned and stormed off in the direction of the exit.

"I guess you're not real good with kids, eh?" Jolee said resignedly.

"How could you allow _that_ to be trained? Look at him, Jolee!" Jolee raised an eyebrow. She realized how loudly she was yelling.

"You aren't exactly helping in that department. That boy's reasons for doing this are his reasons and his reasons alone. It's not for you to question them."

"Am Isupposed to question anything? Or am I supposed to blindly follow the infallible Council?"

"You know just as well as I do how fallible the Council really is," Jolee said, with an edge in his voice she rarely heard from the old man. "Dustil has his own destiny to contend with, and as I recall you have a mission to continue discovering yours."

_Jedi do not argue. Jedi do not deny the willing their chance to redeem themselves. Jedi keep their mouths shut even when they know the dangers and see the warning signs.  
_  
"Anelli it is, then,"Katrinasaid quietly.

"Good lass. Don't concern yourself too heavily about the boy. I have a feeling he may surprise you, like his father before him."

"And don't ask,"the old Jediadded, holding up a hand as she opened her mouth. "If I'll tell you the Council's secret agendas and hidden plans. There aren't any. Your past is yours for the taking, if you'll stop badgering an old man about it and go out and find it."

"I suppose you aren't the Council's choice then, for Dustil's training?" Bastila asked.

"Force no," Jolee said, chuckling. "My views might amuse them and they might want my opinion now and then, but they'd never trust me to train anyone. One of the few smart decisions they've ever made..."

"We'd better get back to the _Hawk_ and begin our preparations." She tried to sound neutral and resigned, as a Jedi with a mission should.

"Goodbye, Jolee. We'll see you when we return," Bastila called over her shoulder, following Katrina towards the exit.

Jolee's reply was quiet and probably not intended for her ears.

"I hope so, Revan. I hope so."


	19. Chapter 19

_I'm wandering again.  
_  
It was another of those lucid dreams, in which she was slightly aware that it was a dream, that what she was doing wasn't real. Her thoughts thus took on a light, amused manner, watching herself do things that had no real implications. 

Wandering was a normal thing in her dreams. Wandering through ruins or bodies or wastelands, mostly.

This time it was a crowd of people, alive for once. They were polarized, excited, screaming and yelling. But this time she felt no anger. They weren't upset with her, they were not hounding for her blood. Something she had done was giving these people hope, giving them joy.

She basked in the aura of good will for a moment, until a small noise cut through the crowds. It was a low whimper.

The crowds vanished, and once again she was Revan, standing alone, hearing the wail of someone she had hurt.

She opened her eyes quickly, letting the dream fade away and the surroundings of her bunk on the _Ebon Hawk_ to comfort her. Bastila sat on her own bunk in the corner, watching her calmly.

"I think that's the most sleep I've gotten in a month," Katrina muttered, rubbing her eyes.

Bastila said nothing.

"Has whatever unlucky Jedi who's to train Dustil arrived yet?" Bastila nodded.

She was quiet, and Katrina felt better. At least she wasn't the only one who thought this was all a big mistake that she would end up paying for.

She pushed herself groggily out of the bunk and headed towards the center of the ship.

Dustil stood there, turning slightly around to notice her.

"We can leave whenever you want," he finally said.

She saw the way his head was slightly hung, the stubborn tone in a voice that seemed to want a peace between them but wouldn't be the first to ask for it.

"Who's training you?" Her slight interest seemed to encourage him.

"I'm not exactly sure how the relationship between Padawan and Master with the Jedi is supposed to be, but I think I like her." He furrowed his brow for a minute.

"To like anyone in the Sith...that was a sign of weakness. I keep trying to find reasons not to like her."

"I shall do my best not to give you any, Dustil." Katrina turned to look in the direction Dustil's attention had went towards.

The Cathar stood, tall and regal, her hands clasped calmly behind her back. Katrina smiled.

"Juhani." She crossed to her and they embraced.

"It is good to see you again, Revan." It wasn't so harsh from Juhani either. It was always in a tone of respect and admiration, as if Revan hadn't always been a pair of red eyes and clenched fists.

"From Padawan to Knight and now to Master, and all within a month or so." Juhani almost seemed to blush.

"After the Star Forge, as I told you, I had decided to focus upon the Jedi teachings, and reflect on the Code. It, and you, helped to save me from my anger many times during our travels. My studies have paid off, and the Council feels I am ready to take another under my wing. One who has felt the temptation of the dark side, as I have, can benefit from one who has also resisted it and returned to the light."

"As you have." The almost blush was there again.

"I feel that we have much to teach each other, Dustil,"the Catharmurmured with a graceful gesture to him. Dustil smiled nervously.

"I'm ready to learn, Master Juhani."

"Do not fear to make mistakes, young Padawan. The Sith would see them as a chance to crush the other underfoot, to gain power over them. Within the ideals of the Jedi Order, mistakes are met with understanding and forgiveness." Juhani's admiration for her almost seemed a little ironic. Katrina had long thought that out of the Jedi she had known during their time together until the Star Forge, Juhani alone had exemplified the ideals of the Order, at the very least far more than she did.

Dustil seemed to digest this quietly.

"If I could interrupt the Jedi reunion for a moment," Canderous said, entering the room. "We need to do a little work on the hyperdrive before getting underway. Those stabilizers are a little out of whack and I doubt I could avoid hitting something unless we tune them up a bit." He paused.

"Times like this Carth would have come in handy."The Mandalorianpointed accusingly at Dustil, as if Dustil was keeping Carth from helping. "Come on kid. I bet you've learned something from the old man. Give me a hand."

The younger Onasi nodded. It seemed he would, at least, stay out of her way on this mission and do as he was told.

"Well, if they had to pick anyone, I'm glad it was you, Juhani." The Cathar smiled softly.

"I understand your concern at his undergoing the training. Having fallen to the dark side at such a young age, having the corrupt ideals of the Sith taught to you by those who are supposed to be your mentors...It is surprising that he was able to release himself from their bonds at all. Indeed, I was reluctant to begin my path as a Jedi Master with such a potentially difficult padawan."

"But,"the Catharcontinued, "The Council has appointed me with the task, and I take pride in the fact that they trust me to train him."

"Don't worry, I won't be getting in your way."

"On the contrary, I would appreciate any insight you could give. Your experiences are so much larger than any of ours, and your redemption all the more meaningful."

While Juhani's admiration never upset her, it often made her feel guilty, as if she had killed this person they were speaking of and was now doing a horrible job of impersonating her.

"I hope his motives for doing this are honest." Juhani nodded.

"It was a great sadness for me to learn of Carth. He was a good man. I understand he incurred them protecting you."

Unsurprisingly, it still hurt even when she was thousands of parsecs away from the planet, from the man.

"I would expect nothing less from him," Juhani continued."But even if his son has entered the Order thinking it will be a legacy to his father, surely such good intentions can only help him to overcome the dark side?"

_You'd be surprised where good intentions can lead.  
_  
"Do you know anything of the planet we're headed to?" Juhani tilted her head in thought.

"What I know of the planet I doubt you do not know already. Anelli has been known as a demolitions factory, and its people to be politically inclined. It is also rumored to have a large population."

"Is it all city, like Coruscant?"

"I do not know. I have heard some talk of that it is made up of many densely populated small cities, rather than of a scope that engulfs the entire planet."

"If the people are so politically inclined, why aren't they involved in the Republic?" This time the Cathar shrugged, a slight smile on her face.

"Who really knows? Anelli is not on the Outer Rim, but it is close to it. I fear it is one of the planets that all too often falls through the cracks of the vast Republic."

Juhani knew more than she did. She felt the sting of being the last to know, the only one not involved, not informed.

"Juhani,"Katrina said, lowering her voice, even more absurd now as the Council wasn't anywhere near the _Ebon Hawk_. "Has the Council told you anything of Anelli? Anything in relation to me?"

The Catharlooked confused.

"Only that we are continuing our investigation of who is responsible for the attack on you and General Onasi there." She reached out a hand, grasping Katrina's arm comfortingly.

"I sense you are frustrated, my friend. Is there anything I can do?"

_If you could kill the Council for me, end the deception and the secrets; that might be a start.  
_  
'Kill' seemed to stand out from her sarcastic thoughts in bold red color, far more serious than the rest of the words accompanying it.

"Not bad, kid." Canderous' voice echoed off the halls of the ship as he and Dustil walked back to join them.

"Now, as long as you haven't got your father's sense of over-weaning morality, you might be of some use." Dustil frowned.

"Better than the over-blown temerity of a warrior." Katrina cringed, waiting for Canderous' sharp threat.

The Mandalorian regarded Dustil coldly.

"In the past I might have challenged you for that. But I guess you can't help the fear and paralysis your people seem to be known for now."

Another problem she'd failed to see; Throwing together a young headstrong Telosian and a stubborn, older Mandalorian on a ship together.

"Of all the-"

"The hyperdrive's all ready to go," Canderous said to her, completely ignoring Dustil. "We can get underway immediately." Katrina nodded.

"Tell Mission and Zaalbar to punch in the coordinates and get us moving." Canderous nodded smartly, turning on his heel and breezing past Dustil towards the cockpit as if he weren't even there.

Dustil paced back and forth a bit, his face red with fury. He finally seemed to notice Juhani's hypnotic calm gaze upon him and stopped.

"I...I just don't know how to-"

"Canderous is a Mandalorian warrior. That is the way of his people. His experiences have dulled him somewhat, but the respect for battle and the glory of a well fought war are values of his culture that cannot ever be taken away from him." Dustil sighed.

"His war helped to keep my father-" Katrina eyed him and he stopped.

_Well, at least he's blaming someone other than Carth for him never being around.  
_  
"One of the first lessons of the Jedi, Dustil, is that we are for others, not for ourselves. You must learn to stop equating everything to your experiences and your life, and learn to look at the other side of things. The Sith would have you believe that everything should be used for your advantage, to better yourself. The Jedi believe that you better yourself by using your advantages to better others."

"Even when they insult you?" Dustil said, less indignant and more amused, as if the Jedi Code was a child's treehouse rules.

The Cathar glanced at Katrina.

She didn't envy her.Juhani would have her work cut out for her with Dustil Onasi.

"Especially when they hurt you. To give into your anger is to fall to the dark side. Look at what anger brings; destruction, death, discrimination. Anger nearly killed Bastila and Revan upon your homeworld of Telos. Anger threatens its very survival." Juhani's voice was passionate, but without the rage Katrina remembered from when she would speak of the injustice she had suffered.

"Anger nearly killed your father." It slipped out and she instantly regretted it. For the sudden jolt it made on her heart strings, but more so that she had allowed herself to slip into the role of mentor, if only for an instant.

_I will not interfere. It is his mistake, and I will not add to it by berating him for my own.  
_  
Dustil watched her for a moment.

She could see cleanly on his face what his lips would not dare to say: 'Anger that was meant for you, not him.'

Juhani smiled softly at Dustil.

"But these are heavy lessons to be learned in a few moments. Do not expect the lessons of the Jedi to be easy, but hopefully they will not cost as much as the lessons of the Sith." Dustil nodded.

"I...apologize, Master Juhani." 'Apologize' couldn't seem to decide on its tone. It lingered on bitterness and regret, and finally rose to honesty and unabashed determination.

The Sith took an apology as a concession, as an action of defeat. The Jedi took it as a strength, as an act of good will.

There was the cold, unsettling breeze of uncertainty, in which she felt how naked Dustil really was when faced with the Jedi against all he knew as a Sith.

"Everything seems to be in order." Bastila stood in the doorway. Katrina wondered exactly how long she had been there, and what she had seen or heard.

"Then let's go." Katrina answered, heading towards the cockpit.

_I may be the last to know anything about this world, or what I may have done on it, but I'll at least be the first to see it.  
_  
Behind her she heard Dustil exhale. His mouth moved over the words with perfect clarity but unfamiliarity, as if they had never existed until he spoke them.

"May the Force be with us."


	20. Chapter 20

_"You're not bad with a blaster turret." His tone was both astonished and amused, as if she had been a magician cutting a man in half while shooting down a dozen Sith fighters. _

"I bet those fighters were saying the same thing." Carth laughed.

"Were you always that good with a pair of crosshairs?"

Strange. She couldn't remember.

"Are you always so admiring of a woman's ability to blow something up?"Carth raised an eyebrow, his hands moving over the controls of the Ebon Hawk _seamlessly. _

"Not usually, but you're something else, gorgeous." The nickname made her tingle in places she'd rather not.

This all seemed too much to balance; her new status as a Jedi, finding the Star Forge, how this roguish Republic soldier made her feel.

"Kashyyk shouldn't be far off," he murmured, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back contentedly in his chair.

"Ever been there?"

"I've been a lot of places, but the Wookiee homeworld never came up in the Republic's destinations."Katrina leaned forward, staring into open space, wondering which one of the approaching stars would eventually turn out to be Kashyyk.

"I have."

Strange. She couldn't remember when or why.

"You must have been quite a scout,"Carth said, giving her a sideways glance. "Small wonder the Jedi wanted you aboard."

She stared at him. He broke into laughter.

"All right, I know it wasn't the tune I was singing back on Taris, but you've since shown a lot of reason for a guy to want you by his side."

Katrinastared at him again. She watched his face rapidly fill with blood as he realized how he'd worded his compliment.

"Um...well, you know what I...what I meant was..." He apparently decided it was better not to attempt to finish, and busied himself furiously with the controls.

She bit her lip, trying not to smile girlishly to herself.

"So what's Telos like?" His face grew less embarrassed and more pensive.

"I'm not too sure what it's like now. When I left it was in ruins, but they must have started rebuilding by now."

"What was it like before the war, then?"Carth glanced at her tiredly, but didn't object to her question.

"I imagine everyone says this about their home after it's been blown to kingdom come, but...it was beautiful."

"Two oceans clearer than Hoth ice, trees and flowers and fields," he continued, "It was pretty rustic- most of Telos was rural areas with some larger cities here and there.It's a planet loyal to the Republic. We- I lived in a military colony near the Crion valley."

"I'm not saying it was paradise or anything," he added, noticing the skepticism she'd thought she was keeping off her face. "But it was home."

Hewas calm,paying complete attention toboth her, the controls, and the sky all at the same time.

"What about you? You never did say where you came from." His question interrupted her thoughts, andKatrina involuntarily looked away, trying to hide the fact that she had been watching him.

"You mean I didn't just fall out of the sky in that escape pod with you?" Carth laughed, and she thought of how much she liked his laugh. It was honest, like him.

"I braved your interrogation, beautiful. Think you can make it through mine?" She returned his smile.

"I..."

She instantly felt discombobulated, like there had been a hurricane in her mind and her hapless brain waves were scrambling to collect her memories.

Strange. She couldn't remember.

* * *

Her first impressions were how red the planet was. It stood out like a Twi'lek on Kashyyk, a bright crimson blot upon the blackness of space. 

It wasn't unlike the explosion that had begun this whole mess, and she winced involuntarily.

"Must be from all the baradium deposits I'm picking up," Canderous commented.

"Supplementation: Baradium is a highly unstable substance used in the construction of thermal detonators and similar weapons, Master. It would seem that our suppositions on the planet's basis of economy are not incorrect. A most sensible direction to take a planet's resources, in my own opinion."

"Are there any authorites to-"

"Unidentified ship, please identify yourself and your business." Bastila's query was cut off by a much more official one. Mission sat up in her seat as if giving the information was an incredibly important task.

"This is the _Ebon Hawk_ requesting permission to land. Um...please?" Mission glanced back at them, and Katrina tried to keep from making a snide comment.

The Twi'lek liked to get angry whenever someone made a crack about her relatively young age, but it was obvious that there were some things even street smarts couldn't change about a kid.

"Shouldn't we tell them what we're doing here too?" Dustil said.

"And possibly send an announcement to whoever planned the attack that his target is about to land?" Bastila answered. Katrina recognized her tone, the superiority and the condescension that had been lorded over her when she had first met the Jedi.

She heard Dustil exhale in frustration. She hoped he could handle Bastila's initial behavior towards new recruits better than she had.

"The transmission is coming from a large city on the south side of the planet," Zaalbar growled.

"Coming up on the sensors as...Forn-eea?" Mission added, stumbling over the unfamiliar name and stressing the second syllable.

"Fornia." She corrected. They all glanced back at her.

She realized she had absolutely no reason to suppose that her pronunciation was any more correct, other than that she had a distinct feeling that it was right.

"_Ebon Hawk_, you are cleared for landing at Dock 38."

"That was relatively painless," Dustil remarked.

"It may be that they recognize the name," Juhani told him. "Or perhaps they are a planet used to visitors."

_Or maybe the painful part is waiting for us to land.  
_  
Mission piloted the ship towards the planet. It began to shudder violently upon entering the atmosphere.

"Sure you don't want to let someone else fly this thing?" Dustil added.

"And what's wrong with my flying?" Mission replied indignantly.

"Mission..." Bastila said cautiously.

"I wouldn't know, considering the fact that you're more crash-landing than flying." Both seemed to ignore her warning tone, and Katrina grasped onto the back of Mission's chair as their entry became rougher and rougher.

"A Jedi does not taunt others for not having as much knowledge as they might have. These are the actions of a Sith," Juhani said severely to Dustil, stumbling forward and grasping for something to hold onto.

"Listen, buddy, just 'cause your dad is Mister-Republic-hero-best- pilot-in-the-galaxy doesn't give you the right to make cracks about my piloting skills!" Mission snapped.

"Mission!" Katrina yelled.

T3 beeped furiously as he tipped over from the turbulence.

"I must have been out of my mind to allow a Twi'lek kid to fly this thing," Canderous muttered at her side.

"Kid?" Katrina's palm flew to her forehead. Canderous smirked grimly, unapologetic.

"Mission, now's not the time!" Zaalbar roared.

"Oh, so now you're against me too, huh, Big Z?" There wasn't much time to admire their surroundings, but Katrina could make out the structures of the city, of the dock they were supposed to be landing at, rushing towards them at alarming speed.

"No one thinks you're a kid, Mission, and no one thinks you're a bad pilot!" she yelled desperately.

"Prove it to us by landing," Bastila added, a slightly queasy quality in her voice.

Mission snorted angrily, but said nothing more.

Katrina took the few seconds to turn and give Dustil a look that might have broken Malak himself into pieces.

The younger Onasi seemed torn between defiance and a red-faced shame. He looked away.

The ship seemed to go faster for a moment, the dock and the tiny people milling about in it growing larger much more quickly than they should. But finally, with a loud groan of metal and thrusters, the ship came to an abrupt stop. They were all thrown backwards.

The ship plopped down into the dock neatly, as if nothing had been amiss.

Mission sighed, turning around in her chair. Her face was a slightly lavender hue, the equivalent of a blush for the blue-skinned Twi'lek.

Bastila was eying her with a slightly green face. Evidently rough flying and cramped quarters weren't agreeing with the Jedi on this mission.

"I guess I got a little upset...and maybe a little distracted."

T3 let out a long series of enraged beeps as he righted himself, what Katrina could only imagine was a string of curses in some unknown droid language.

"From now on," Canderous said roughly, reaching past her and powering down the controls, "_I_ do the flying."

Mission folded her arms but nodded compliantly. However stubborn, she could still admit when she was wrong.

"You and I, Padawan Dustil," Juhani said firmly, turning to Dustil. "will stay aboard the ship and begin your training. You are obviously not yet ready to venture out on a mission other than that of learning the Jedi Code."

Dustil nodded miserably, though she didn't know whether it was because he had failed and exposed his learned Sith behavior, or because he couldn't go out on an adventure with them.

"Yes, Master Juhani."

"Bastila, HK, care to join me?" Bastila nodded vigorously. Katrina stood, rubbing her neck.

"Answer: It would be a distinct pleasure, Master. Since you departed with the meatbag Onasi, only the Mandalorian has been a source of function for my numerous battle capabilities. I am most eager to use them again." She glanced at Canderous, who only smirked to himself as he worked.

"I'm hoping you won't have to, HK." The droid's shoulders seemed to sag dejectedly.

"Answer: As you wish, Master. Though I doubt that to be very likely on a planet based on demolitions."

Katrinawalked towards the ship's gangplank and wondered how true the droid's premonitions would turn out to be.


	21. Chapter 21

No one around them gave any sort of notice to the landing of one of the Republic's famed renegade hero ships. The dock was crowded with workers, merchants, and Anellians in general. It was loud and boisterous, but it didn't look like there was angry mob waiting for her here.

Katrina allowed her grip on her lightsaber to relax.

The redness of the sky extended itself to the redness of the mountains in the distance. Through many open windows in the dock, she could spot many structures built into the sides of the peaks, some looking so rooted and permanent that the mountains appeared to have grown around them rather than the opposite.

The dock they had landed on seemed itself to be perched atop one of them, large buildings of half manufactured-materials and half rock attached to it and rising in the distance.

The majority of the people were humans, though a few aliens wandered around the dock. She wondered if they were merely travelers or a proportionate example of the aliens that lived on Anelli.

"I don't suppose there's a visitor's center?" Bastila murmured.

"Or a friendly tour guide with a brochure," Katrina added, beginning to walk towards the large doors that undoubtedly led to the city of Fornia.

"Extrapolation: Master, I believe I remember your having said Fornia reminded you of what Coruscant might have been had it not become the headquarters for the Republic. This approximation may in some way explain the indifference of the occupants to our presence."

"Had it not become a Republic planet?" Katrina turned around, moving closer to HK.

"HK, did I say this because this planet is allied with the Sith? Did I ever say anything along those lines?" Already she was looking around suspiciously, analyzing every Anellian for possible concealed blasters or hidden Sith markings.

HK seemed to be trying desperately to wince despite the fact that his mechanical head could never accomplish the task.

"Request: Master, there is no need for you speak so loudly into my auditory units. I assure you, my aural capabilities are more than up to the task of hearing you from a distance."

"The planet, HK," she pressed.

"Answer: Negative, Master. Never at any time did you say anything that implied that Anelli was of a politically Sith inclination."

"I'd say that comment implied it pretty explicitly," Katrina murmured to Bastila.

"Perhaps not. We should reserve our judgments until we have had a chance to see the city for ourselves."

_There is no impatience, there is no frustration over grasping futilely for knowledge I once had.  
_  
"Owner of the _Ebon Hawk_?" They were stopped by a worker standing near the doorway, a self-assured air around him and a datapad in his hand.

"Who's asking?" She was more cautious around those who recognized the ship now. Recognizing the ship meant you might recognize those who flew it, or had flown it in the past. Besides Davik's unsavory past, she hadn't the slightest clue what kinds of people might have used it as their flagship before him.

Not to mention her own track record.

"100 credits for docking, please," the man added tersely, ignoring her question.

"Don't tell me you're with Czerka?" His face scrunched up angrily.

"Czerka? Listen, lady, you one of those rich industrialists who thinks a planet doesn't have to charge them docking fees?" Katrina held out her hand, reaching into her pack for the credits.

"You're the port authority then, I take it?" The man seemed to calm down.

"Yes. I'm an employee of the Anellian government." He stressed 'government' as if it meant he was a Corellian king.

"You say that as though I should be impressed," Katrina added, handing over the credits. The man eyed her skeptically as he took them.

"I'm going to take a stab in the dark here and say you've never been to Anelli."

She nodded in response. There was no point in trying to explain that she had been here before, only she hadn't because she had no memory of it.

There were times she thought she remembered something, a wisp of recognition, but they always turned out to be her unconsciously inventing the memories from what people had told her of her past.

"I'm no welcoming committee, but the first thing to know about our world is that government and politics are part of our everyday lives. We're all involved in the decisions of the planet in one way or another. I myself am part of the committee for the Sith." She felt a sinking feeling somewhere within her chest.

"For the Sith?" He nodded amicably.

"Currently, Anelli is trying to decide which side to help supply with our massive amounts of demolitions- all under the table, of course," he added conspiratorially.

"But you are a Republic planet!" Bastila exclaimed.

"Perhaps so, but that doesn't mean we're obligated to give up our resources for them." There was passion in his voice, but no anger.His explanations were calm,likeaplanned debate he hadgone through many times already/

"Surely you must have heard of the destruction of the Star Forge, and the fall of Malak. Surely you must have heard of the great evils he and the Sith inflicted, including the destruction of Taris," Bastila added.

The port officer shrugged.

"The Sith might have methods that make most sane people cringe, but the reality is that they will eventually win this war. When they do, Anelli cannot afford to be forgotten and abandoned to their whims."

"So you agree that the Sith are evil, but you're lobbying to give them weapons?"

"It sounds a lot worse than it is. Keep those in power happy, and they won't crush you. Then if those in power screw up, you have the resources to rise up and stop them."

"Observation: Master, I believe I understand why you spoke of this planet fondly." If admiration was possible in the voice of a droid, HK was dripping with it.

Katrinaadmitted silently to herself that she almost saw the logic in that point of view.

"If you're all so politically involved, why is it that you are so distant from the Republic war effort? You belong to that body of government, so why not be active on agalactic scale as well as a local?" Bastila finally continued, looking slightly irritated at the fact that Katrina had not loudly sang the praises of the Republic as well.

"The Republic pays no attention to us, therefore we don't involve them in our plans." It wasn't the port officer answering, but a man going through crates of cargo behind him.

"I suppose you support the Sith too?" Bastila called to him.

"No, I support helping neither. Why get ourselves involved in a war when we're prosperous and strong enough to defend ourselves against either party?" The man walked towards them, brushing his hands off on his clothing.

"Because one side represents death, destruction, and the dark side twisting everything in its path." The man raised an eyebrow at Bastila.

"You sound like you know what you're talking about." His comment seemed to catch the Jedi off guard, and Bastila grew silent.

"So you support neither, you support the Sith, and I'm hoping there's a couple around here who support the Republic," Katrina said. The port officer nodded.

"A whole party of them."

"But you don't seem to want to shoot each other over it." The cargo handler cocked his head towards her lightsaber.

"We make weapons. We don't carry them around with us."

"Everyone here has their beliefs, their secrets. As far as they're willing to go for them, well, that's their business. To keep the peace, we accept each other's views and battle it out in words," the port officer added.

_I think a good blaster shot might turn some of these Sith-loyal ones over.  
_  
The thought, like all her other violent thoughts, rose up like a menacing wave, ready to topple the rational parts of her brain.

She sensed no anger from any of them, and the absence of upset among so many differing views confused her for a moment.

"What do you mean, the Republic pays no attention to us?" Both officer and handler exchanged knowing glances. She tried to ignore her irritation.

"We're out in the depths of space. Practically the Outer Rim. We pay our taxes to Coruscant, but that seems to be all the Republic cares about. They never approached us about anything else, not even the war. We seem to be the forgotten planet." Bastila furrowed her brow.

"Would it be possible for us to speak with those in charge around here?"

"Normally I'd say good luck and tell you to look for a hotel while you wait around for a couple weeks, but since you're Jedi-" The port officer pointed towards their weapons again. "You'll probably get bumped to the head of the list."

"You'll need to inquire at the nearest government office," the handler added. "You can't miss it- It'll be one of the only buildings with a crowd of people around it." Katrina nodded.

"Exactly who is the leader on this planet?" Bastila called out as they opened the doors into the city.

"The Committee." His voice was derisive, as if this was a fact as universal as hyperspace travel and he couldn't believe Bastila didn't know it.

"A weapons factory out near the Outer Rim, far enough out of the Sith's reach to keep them at bay for a while, and the Republic 'forgets' it?" Katrina murmured to her.

"I can hardly believe the Republic would make absolutely no effort, especially in the midst of a war. Perhaps we will learn more if we speak to someone with a more intimate knowledge of the planet's dealings with the rest of the universe. This 'Committee' they speak of."

"Advice: Master, I remember you speaking negatively on the subject of the Committee. I would advise you to take caution in meeting with them."

"Negatively? How so?"

"Answer: Your exact words were, 'I've seen herds of bantha that had more sense than the Committee.'"

Katrinasmirked. It was somewhat comforting to know that Revan hadn't been so steeped in the dark side that she was above common insults.

"So I've met them before? They would remember me?"

"Extrapolation: I am unable to find a record of your having met with them during my years of service to you. Of course, you may not have shared the information with me," HK looked slightly hurt by this, as if he had been her sole confidant.

"Even if you had, it is doubtful that they would recognize you now."

"Why not?"

"Answer: In that time you were partial to wearing a mask."

Words defeated her and instead she began walking into the city of Fornia.


	22. Chapter 22

The city stretched forward down an endless valley between the mountains. Buildings rose in an effort to compete with nature on either side of her. People were everywhere.

There were still far more humans than aliens. Whether it was prejudice or mere coincidence, she didn't know.

The markings of the Republic were nowhere to be found. In their places were advertisements, public notices, and petitions of every kind. They flashed on viewscreens and panels on each corner.

_Well. That must be the nearest government office_, she thought sarcastically to herself. The building was obtrusive and gaudy. It stood on a corner built into the side of the rock. What looked like half the planet's population stood in clumps of varying size and thickness around it.

"What exactly are we planning to ask them, Bastila? I'm not standing in line if it's just to locate the nearest cantina." Bastila smirked at her.

"I doubt they will volunteer such information readily, but we should inquire about your past in relation to the planet."

"You mean Revan's past." The Jedi stared at her, looking as though she had a great many things she wanted to say.

"Yes, Revan's past," she finally repeated.

Jedi values were often on her side when it came to facing the harsh truths of her identity.

They approached the crowd and began to move through it. Most stepped aside respectfully, eying the lightsabers on their belts. The few that didn't, Katrina eyed with her most hypnotic gaze. She heard Bastila's sigh of lecture-preparation behind her.

"The Force is not a toy, Revan," the Jedi said, watching her warily as if she actually thought Katrina might begin to hold her hand out, knocking down the crowds around them.

They reached a tall podium near the entrance to the building. It was taller than Katrina herself, and if she stood on her tiptoes she could barely see over the top of it.

The official behind it glanced down at her, a datapad in hand. Katrina felt like a child in front of a disciplining teacher.

"I'm sorry, were you next?"

"My name is Katrina and this is Bastila. We are Jedi investigating an attack that we believe to have originated here." The woman behind the podium raised an eyebrow, her attention moving back to her datapad.

"Do you have a suspect or immediate evidence?" Her tone was one of absolute indifference either way.

"No, but I do have a wrecked ship and a comatose Republic officer," she replied brusquely. The official eyed the long pinkish scar going across Katrina's forehead. She instinctively pulled a strand of hair down to cover it.

"The preliminary evidence on the weapon was-"

"I'm sorry," the woman continued, talking right over a perturbed Bastila, "But unless you have a specific name and some legitimate data to support your claim, I cannot waste the Committee's time with this."

"You want to let us meet with them. Our evidence is enough." The woman frowned severely at Katrina.

"I don't 'want' to do anything. Come back with something substantial and perhaps you'll be moved to the front of the list. And I'd advise you not to try that again, Master Jedi. We don't take very kindly to people thinking they can strong-arm their way through things."

She and Bastila worked their way back out of the crowd.

"Of all the foolish-"

"Don't start, Bastila."

"Do you try to antagonize every governing body we run into, or is it just coincidence?"

"I thought it would work!"

"We are on a serious mission. The Force is-"

"-Not a toy, I know, I know,"Katrina muttered. Force Persuasion didn't work, and status as a Jedi didn't seem to mean a thing. It appeared that these people respected facts and a well presented argument above anything else.

"Suggestion: Master, seeing as how we have attempted the diplomatic approach, and it has inevitably failed, might I suggest a more aggressive route? Perhaps one involving blasters?"

"No, HK. I think there's a few more options left for us to consider." The droid dropped his blaster and looked around impatiently, as if the options would only take a few moments to be considered and rejected in favor of his plan.

"Maybe if we can get a look at these weapons they're so famous for. Maybe we can find some kind of concrete proof that the device used for the attack came from this planet." Bastila nodded, her dark look lightening up a bit.

"That's more like it. We should seek out the facilities where they create them."

"HK, can you detect any mass quantities of baradium near us?"

"Answer: The entire planet is made up of baradium, Master, but there is an exceptionally large mass of it to the north." Katrina nodded.

They continued on in the direction HK had indicated. The city seemed to be a direct path leading to it, the odd trails that detoured leading to dead ends and buildings.

'It' was in fact a terrifyingly large structure built into the cavernous mountain that the city ended at. Smoke coiled up from unknown exhausts within, creating a sort of ominous maroon cloud above it.

"Charming little factory," Katrina commented.

"I suggest we conceal the fact that we are Jedi." She glanced at Bastila.

"I thought the Force wasn't a toy, that we have been charged with a serious mission and we must respect that." Bastila narrowed her eyes at her sarcastic reply.

"I only meant that our inquiries may be misinterpreted to imply that we are trying to gather weapons for the Republic."

"Rich industrialists, then," Katrina replied, tucking her lightsaber safely within the folds of her clothing.

"Rich industrialist Jedi," Bastila added, as if trying to remind herself of the latter.

A protocol droid stood outside the large doors.

"Why are there no guards?" she whispered.

"The entire operation is a giant weapon. Guards would be a little redundant," Bastila whispered back.

"Greetings, sentient," the protocol droid began somewhat haltingly, eying HK-47 as though he were a dysfunctional family member.

"Please state your business with Fornia Demolitions, a subsidiary of Anellian Mining Corporations, the galaxy's leading manufacturers of hand- held and planted explosive devices."

"Lady Trina and Lady Bastila Ordo-" Bastila gasped in outrage. "Here for their tour as scheduled."

"Certainly, sentients," the droid said, looking quite _un_certain. He stood there staring at them for a few minutes.

"Well?" Katrina murmured, putting her hand on her hip and trying to look put-out.

"Forgive me, sentient, but I am unable to find any record of your tour appointment within the records of Fornia Demolitions, a subsidiary of Anellian Mining Corporations, the galaxy's-"

"This is absurd! We are planning on investing a great deal in this company, but should our reception continue in this fashion, I am afraid we will be quite unable to do so." She was surprised at how easily she could become a commanding battle-ax without a lightsaber or Revan's past at her disposal. The protocol droid seemed to muster up its courage.

"I apologize, human, but I simply cannot allow you within the building."

"HK?" The droid stepped forward, his blaster pointed at the protocol droid's head.

"Query: Shall I fry his circuits or dismantle him slowly, Master? I can assure you that either would be a satisfactory route." Katrina raised an eyebrow towards the protocol droid, as if asking him to decide on his own demise.

In reality she was holding her breath, wondering if she had just made another galactic blunder and the security systems of the factory might kick in, blaster turrets taking them all out in seconds.

"One moment!" the droid hurriedly exclaimed. "I believe I have located your scheduled appointment, sentients, which was mistakenly filed within a baradium-quality report log. If you will just follow me, I will direct you to an official who will conduct your tour."

"HK, I do believe your eyes twinkled with enjoyment," she murmured to the droid.

"Answer: Though that is quite impossible Master, it was, nonetheless,a pleasure."

"Ordo?" Bastila hissed into her ear.

"Relax. I didn't imply you were married to Canderous or anything. I'll be sure to tell him of your feelings on the subject in any case."

_Besides, Ordo was a hell of a lot easier to say than Onasi.  
_  
The droid led them through a set of smaller doors built into the massive set outlining them. As she had suspected, security was set to deceive anyone attempting a violent takeover of the weapons plant. A single protocol droid would greet them.

Should they manage to open the doors, numerous blaster turrets, security fields, cameras, and sentient guards would welcome them further.

The droid scurried over to a room in the corner. Katrina spotted him murmuring to a man standing behind a desk.

"The question is whether he's telling him that we threatened him with our assault droid or what eager investors we might be?" Bastila whispered.

"Maybe our luck will hold out."

"There is no luck; there is only the Force."

The man, a solid sort losing most of his red hair, walked out with a hand extended, a simpering smile she had seen all too often plastered on his face.

"Ladies...allow me to welcome you to our facilities. I apologize for the discrepancy in your appointment time."

_Still, the Force can be pretty damn lucky sometimes.  
_  
"As you can imagine, we are besieged with requests for touring of our facilities from officials, politicians, investors..." he trailed off, noticing HK.

"An assault droid?" he added, less enthusiastically.

"Surely you don't expect two wealthy and attractive women to travel without protection?" Bastila purred. Katrina glanced back at her, amazed.

_There's another talent our bond never revealed_.

The man chuckled, the suspicion in his eyes completely gone. He reached for Bastila's hand.

"Two very attractive women, ma'm." He kissed the Jedi's hand. Katrina bit her lip, trying not to laugh as Bastila's upper lip twitched in revulsion.

"As your droid may have informed you, we are interested in possibly helping to fund your work here in Fornia."

"Of course, of course. May I say that it is a welcome change from the sort that usually wish to see our facilities."

"Such as?"The manchuckled again. It was a tinny kind of sound, one a computer might have made.

"Republic military officials, Sith military officials, mercenaries of every kind, pirates, smugglers- you name a crime, someone who committed it has probably shown up here."

"But of course, I digress. I am Turk, head of consumer affairs here at Fornia Demolitions, and I will conduct your tour and answer any questions you might have." He turned on his heel, raising his chin and putting a hand behind his back. It was obvious that he took great pride in showing off the factory. He glanced at Bastila, smirking as though his words would impress and dazzle her.

"We'll begin in our main production chambers..."

Katrina motioned for Bastila to go ahead, giggling quietly behind her.

"Not one word," the Jedi muttered.


	23. Chapter 23

The process of making a weapon, Katrina found very quickly, was not half as exciting as the process of using one. 

"And, then in this final stage, the baradium we have received from mining companies all over the planet is sorted and inserted into the various demolition-type items that we offer, from thermal detonators to plasma mines." Turk's voice was dangerously close to putting her into a Jedi trance.

She exchanged a quick look of excruciating boredom with Bastila.

"Mr. Turk, might I ask what types of weapons your plant produces?" He chuckled again, something he had done after each and every one of their occasional questions.

"You may ask whomever you like in the next stop on our tour, which will be our research department. They will be able to recite in numerous detail the hundreds of available weapons in our arsenal, if you'll excuse the term."

They followed him down the walkways, Katrina trying to control a slight feeling of vertigo over the abyss of machinery and rock beneath her feet.

The 'research department' was little more than another room with computer terminals and large windows overlooking flat scarlet plains.

"Researcher Lorr?" A green-skinned Twi'lek bent over a datapad and a terminal barely glanced over his shoulder at them.

"You haven't brought more tourists for me to entertain, have you Turk? I'm really quite busy," he snapped in his native tongue.

"Ah, no no Lorr, these ladies are quite different from tourists," Turk said quickly, smiling apologetically at them. "They're _investors_."

Lorr whirled around, his lips pulled back revealing a hungry sharp-toothed smile.

"Ladies," he began warmly in Basic, "allow me to welcome you to our humble research facility here at Fornia Demolitions."

Katrina had a sudden urge to reply in Twi'lek.

"We were hoping you could tell us what kinds of weapons you produce here besides your every-day hand grenades."

_Like, say, something that could be launched towards the brand new top-of- the-line ship of a Republic war hero and not be detected by either until it was too late.  
_  
She swallowed the rising lump in her throat.

"We have a few specialty items, of course, that can be prepared for an incredibly hefty commission. These purchases are, of course, reviewed in full so that we can be sure no law is intended to be broken."

"Specialty how?"

"These items are fine-tuned beyond the simple triggering pins of the other weapons," Lorr continued amicably, as if it wasn't the least out of the ordinary for a rich woman to be inquiring about the workings of hand grenades. "We can produce models that can be controlled in their launch from a separate datapad, and can even be detonated at the owner's discretion. The target would be quite impossible to miss this way."

_That takes care of how it made its way to the cockpit so accurately.  
_  
"Would these items be detectable by sensors?"

"That, miss, is where the real genius of our work comes in," Lorr said excitedly. "We have begun testing of prototype models that allow the weapon to escape detection by being read as something benign. The weapon sends out false signals of elements present in it surroundings, so that any sensors or detection equipment would sense nothing out of the ordinary. These models, of course, are not available to the public, but we have had private purchases of up to eighty-thousand credits."

_That takes care of avoiding Carth's keen eyes, the ship's sensors, and my Jedi senses.  
_  
"Might I have some of this information downloaded into my datapad? I'd like to review it later when deciding on an amount to fund your research." Lorr reached out for it furtively, as if it was the credits it might help her decide to give him.

"Certainly, miss. Anything for two ladies willing to help advance the field." He turned to the computer terminal for a moment, and then handed it back to her.

"Sorry to have disturbed you, Lorr." Turk called out as he moved back out towards the plant.

"Well, ladies, we're nearing the end of our little tour. Are there any additional questions you might have?"

"These new prototype demolitions: have there been a lot of special orders for them?"

"Not many, as hardly any have the credits nowadays to afford such items, but they are making a handy little profit on the side. We're predicting they will become big sellers, so long as their usage is approved by the officals on Corsucant."

"Has anyone notable purchased these items?" Turk chuckled again. Katrina was definitely sure it was about the thirty-fourth time she had heard the irritating sound.

"That information is safely tucked away in our private files." He inclined his head to a security room behind him.

"Surely you can give me a few hints?" Turk shook his head brusquely.

"After all," Bastila added, "we'd like to see who the competition might be." Turk looked somewhat more sympathetic, but still shook his head.

"I'm sorry, ladies, the files are quite off limits, even to prospective investors."

"We need to see those files," Katrina replied calmly, staring him directly in the face.

Turk eyed her strangely, as though she had just started speaking Huttese.

"I'm very sorry, miss, but the files are sealed." Either her skill at persuasion and using the Force were fading, or the people of this planet were far more strong-minded than most.

"Now, if you'll just follow me," Turk finally continued, still eying her suspiciously as he turned around. "I'll direct you to the exit."

Katrina hung back for a moment.

"We need to see those files," she hissed to Bastila.

"So you tried unsuccessfully to tell him,"the Jedireplied tersely.

"Distract him."

"And how do you suppose I do that?" Katrina smirked. Bastila's face contorted in outrage.

"He likes you, Bastila. Humor him."

"Sometimes I have my doubts about your having completely turned away from the dark side,"the Jedimuttered, moving towards Turk.

'Dark side' festered in her ears for a moment while she stubbornly told herself that Bastila had only been joking.

"Query: Shall I assist you, Master?" HK said, having stayed silent and appropriately threatening throughout their tour.

"No, follow Bastila. He's less likely to notice me missing than you." The droid lowered its blaster resolutely, as if it had finally given up on any violence occurring, and moved towards Bastila and Turk.

Katrina turned towards the sealed door.

Doubtless there were cameras watching her, but she could only hope that both the Force and luck were still on her side. Besides, any breaking in could be negated by her evidence that someone had used a weapon from this plant to attack her.

The security door wasn't cracking. Apparently the files on who purchased the weapons were far more important to protect than a storeroom of the actual weapons.

Katrina glanced around, making sure no one was watching. She pulled out her lightsaber and began the process of slicing through the locks. With a hiss of electricity and steam, the doors finally slid open.

Computer terminals were the only things in the room, along with lockers probably containing datapads and invoices. She quickly moved towards one of the terminals.

Her spikes worked better than her security skills, and she moved to find the prototype and special purchases. There were around forty names listed.

_No time to deduce through all of them. Take them all, deduce later_. She downloaded the names into her datapad and slipped out of the room.

Bastila and Turk stood around the corner, back near the front of the plant. Bastila's head was high, a hand on her hip and a petulant expression on her face. Turk looked utterly terrified.

"Again, madam, I apologize most heartily for my untoward behavior. I have no wish to anger the wife of a Mandalorian. Your husband Canderous certainly doesn't need to know of a man's honest mistake, does he?"

Katrina stifled another laugh as she silently moved behind him. Turk glanced back at her.

"And you, miss, you certainly will vouch for me? Just a simple misunderstanding, correct?" Katrina nodded.

"I suppose we can make allowances for a misunderstanding, can't we, Bastila?" The Jedi nodded.

"So long as it doesn't happen again." Turk sighed, visibly relieved.

"Well then, I suppose all that is left is to wish you ladies a fine day and hope that you make the right decision involving our company. The exit is directly through this door. My droid will show you out." He scurried away and back into the factory as if a horde of Mandalorians stood behind them with blasters at the ready.

The droid led them back outside the building.

"Your husband Canderous?" Bastila inspected her fingers with renewed interest.

"I had to say something to stop his pathetic attempts at seduction."

"Supplementation: The meatbag was _quite_ forward, Master," HK added.

"I'll be sure to let Canderous know how your feelings have changed." Bastila glared at her.

"I take it you succeeded in getting the purchasers of the special weapons." Katrina tossed her datapad up in the air and caught it.

"There are a lot of them. I thought we could sift through them later." Bastila nodded.

"For now, let us try again to meet with the Committee- they can perhaps provide information that will help us to narrow down the list."

They followed the path back into the city, towards the government offices again. The crowds had not died down, despite the fact that an orange colored sun was setting quickly in the distance.

Katrina inhaled deeply, glad to finally be out of the demolitions factory.

The woman behind the counter didn't look any less irritable the second time around. She glanced at Katrina and then back at the datapad, this time without any kind of acknowledgement.

"I have information on the type of weapon that was used in the attack against my ship and a possible list of suspects." The woman held her hand out, still refusing to look at Katrina.

_There is no frustration, there is no anger. There is no desire to throw my datapad directly at her head.  
_  
Instead Katrina placed it in the woman's outstretched palm and waited expectantly while she skimmed it.

After a few moments, the woman put down both her datapad and Katrina's. She leaned over the counter, finally facing the two Jedi with an exasperated look in her face.

"I'm sorry, Master Jedi, but you have a list of nearly forty names here and a few schematics of prototype weapons. This is not enough to warrant a formal investigation into your claims."

_There is no desire to brandish my lightsaber.  
_  
"We need information from those in charge around here to make our claims more airtight. How are we supposed to get that if you won't let us in to see them?"

"The Committee is very busy, Master Jedi. Surely you can find other ways of gathering such information."

_There is no desire to use said lightsaber to chop this woman's smug head off as an example._

"Look," Katrina snapped, pounding her fists against the podium. "I will not be able to sleep knowing that there is someone who wants to kill me and I haven't gotten a bit closer to discovering who."

"Revan..." Bastila whispered.

"Now either you let me meet with this Committee or you'll..." She stopped, her momentum challenged by her morality.

_A Jedi does not threaten. A Jedi does not come this dangerously close to saying 'or you'll regret it'._

Bastila's hushed whisper and her desire to say the words, to knock this woman off of her podium, conflicted and left her there with her mouth hanging open, unable to go any further.

The woman held her datapad out towards her, a triumphant smirk on her face.

Katrina snatched it away and stormed off back through the crowds. She began to pace back and forth in the middle of the street.

_Carth is there. Dustil is not, I am not. Someone tried to kill him, no one is there with him, and I have supposedly left to discover who and I'm not even doing that._

"Revan..." Bastila whispered again, reaching for her arm. Katrina shrugged her off, finally stopping and putting a hand up to her forehead.

She felt Bastila trying to get in her head, trying to see what their bond used to reveal involuntarily to each other. The bond would still sometimes allow that, if the other fought desperately to see it.

"Perhaps we should return to the ship." Bastila's tone was hesitant, as if she too feared that Katrina would whirl around and shock her with lightning as well. "We can look over the names, do some research, perhaps return tomorrow when we have more information."

"Master Jedi!" Before she could reply, Katrina spotted a couple of similarly dressed young people running towards her.

"Forgive us for interrupting you, Master Jedi, but we need your help!"

Help. That was all anyone wanted. For her to stop whatever she was doing, put whatever was important to her on hold so that she might get them through their problems.

Her resentment irritated her, and her irritation made her feel ashamed.

_A Jedi is not impatient. A Jedi does not long to tell all these people to help themselves, that she's very sorry but she's busy. A Jedi betters themselves by helping others.  
_  
"What is it?" It was a trio of young people, a woman and two men with flushed, excited faces.

"I'm Margot, and these are Sach and Lorado." The men nodded enthusiastically.

"We're members of the local mining union, and we're meeting with the Committee in a few minutes."

"You're luckier than us, then," Katrina replied.

"But this is our third time meeting with them," Sach added, "And I doubt it'll turn out any differently than the others."

"Why are you meeting with them, exactly?" Bastila asked, stepping closer to them.

"We're lobbying for better safety conditions for the miners in the Anellian Mining Corporation," Lorado said.

"But every time they tell us we have to take it up with the company, and the company doesn't give a damn," Margot continued.

"It's happened twice now, and we don't want any more accidents or injuries. Something has to be done, and the Committee has to see that." She looked down at the ground for a moment, as if shy to ask whatever it was she wanted.

"What do you need us for?"

"We'd really appreciate it if you could meet with them with us, Master Jedi," Margot finally said, looking up desperately. "They might take us more seriously when we have two Jedi accompanying us."

Katrina glanced back at Bastila with a sardonic smile. The Jedi gave her a lofty look as if to say she would have helped them regardless of whether they had a desperate need to meet with the Committee for their own reasons.

"Certainly. We'd be glad to help you." The trio clapped their hands together, wide grins on their faces.

"Thank you so much, Master Jedi!"

That old hypocrisy hit her again as they praised her and called her 'Master Jedi', but she shrugged it off.

_I would have helped them regardless_, she repeated to herself, not entirely sure she believed it.


	24. Chapter 24

The interior of the government office was, thankfully, easier on the eyes than the outside.

Katrina stood observing the clean lines of its waiting room, somewhat crowded but not half as much as those waiting in line outside. The three miners stood in a group murmuring to themselves.

"We should make sure that their problem is resolved before asking about our own." Bastila murmured next to her.

Katrina frowned. It felt and sounded like the condescending order she was sure Bastila hadn't meant it to be. She had had to fight with herself not to make some kind of snide remark as she passed the woman who had denied them entry twice on the way in. She was also fighting to ignore a sense of smug triumph at having the dumb luck to meet with three people who had an appointment with the committee.

"I think finding out who's trying to kill me is a little more important than the local union dues." She felt the Jedi's gaze, heard the words that she probably was dying to say to her.

But Bastila said nothing, and Katrina felt a tap on the shoulder. Margot and the others stood behind her.

"They're ready for us." The girl's voice carried a hint of uncertainty, as if the Committee could possibly be a group of very understanding politicians, or could possibly be a group of very unsympathetic Hutts.

Both Jedi turned and followed the three Anellians through a set of security doors.

The room was set up to allow whoever was in front of the governing body their full attention, or their full scrutiny. The only light was a single large spot in front of a long podium where about fifteen dark outlines of men and women sat, staring expectantly at the circle of light. The rest of the room was dark, and probably nothing but shadows and vague forms to the Committee.

There was a marked absence of guards, but from what she had seen so far, Katrina wasn't surprised. There was probably some kind of fail-safe system if anyone was idiotic enough to attempt some kind of attack.

"Representatives of the Anellian Mining Corporation." The voice that beckoned them was not harsh or impatient, but it was firm enough to make Margot, Sach, and Loredo scurry into the spotlight immediately.

Katrina and Bastila hung back in the shadows, watching.

"Honorable members of the Committee," Margot began, the fear in her face nowhere present in her voice, "We come to you today to discuss the plight of the workers of the Anellian Mining Corporation."

"The Committee acknowledges that. We also acknowledge that this is the third time you have come before us with such a discussion." Margot's face colored deeply, but Katrina couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger.

The Committee seemed to have a sole speaker; that same firm but not brusque voice that responded calmly to everything the miners said.

"Unless you have new evidence to present to us, the Committee feels obliged to tell you that we will respond with the same advice that we have on your previous two visits: Take it up with the Anellian Mining Corporation."

"Not only do we have further recorded injuries to report to you, but we also have two highly respected Jedi to validate our claims." There was a low murmuring among the members of the Committee. Katrina glanced at Bastila.

"Apparently here a lightsaber carries some kind of weight," she murmured to the Jedi.

"Indeed it does, Master Jedi." The Committee apparently also had excellent hearing.

Bastila stepped forward first, wincing momentarily upon stepping into the light.

"You must forgive our surprise, Jedi..."

"Bastila."

"...Bastila, as we have not had Jedi on our planet for nearly six years." Katrina raised an eyebrow.

"Six years? Why so long?" Her answer was a few seconds in coming. Probably because of the members of the Committee straining to see through the shadows the second Jedi who wouldn't yet step into the middle of that harsh spotlight.

"Aside from being near the Outer Rim and usually falling out of the Republic's sights, the Jedi were refused their last request of our government. This may account for their marked reluctance to return to the planet."

"Yes," Margot added loudly, "And now they have returned to assist us in our struggle for worker's rights." Bastila looked back at Katrina, eying her pointedly as if trying to will her to enter the light with her.

The Committee seemed to take another moment to draw a breath.

"We are very sympathetic to the plight of the miners," Bastila said haltingly. "And we wish to offer the support of the Jedi Council in helping to improve their working conditions."

_Feel free to jump in any time, Katrina._

"What was the last request of the Jedi?" Her impetuousness was against the Jedi Code, and she hated the Code, and she was disappointed in herself for not agreeing with the Code.

_A Jedi doesn't ignore the people. A Jedi doesn't forget to help someone just to help themselves._

Margot gave her a dirty look, as she had betrayed them.

"Representatives of the Anellian Mining Corporation," that same voice finally said, "Consider your request granted. The Committee will meet with the owners of the Corporation to discuss further safety precautions. Perhaps the Jedi will harbor no ill will towards us any longer if we address an issue they seem to be _so_ passionate about." The voice seemed to break from its calm for a moment and sounded amused.

"You do? Oh...well, thank you very much, members of the Committee. We'll be on our way now...I guess," Margot replied; she, Sach, and Loredo eying Katrina as through she had just cast some kind of magic spell. The trio exited the room, watching both Jedi over their shoulders as they faded into the shadows.

"As to your question, Master Jedi," the voice continued, "The Jedi last requested the use of our facilities and resources to aid the Republic against the Mandalorians in the Mandalorian war years ago. When we refused, their representatives were quite...angered by it." The voice grew flat when speaking of the representatives.

Katrina closed her eyes, trying to remember being here before, trying to remember standing in this room, conversing with this voice, making a case for the Republic.

She remembered nothing but her current frustration at being in the same situation again and having no memory of the previous one.

Katrina stepped forwards towards the spotlight.

"We must confess to you, honorable members of the Committee, that we have an ulterior motive in meeting with you," Bastila said.

"I should think so. The Jedi care little for the plight of the everyday man." Bastila looked incensed. Her narrowed eyes scanned the vague forms of the members, seemingly trying to find one to focus her anger on.

"We are investigating an attack made on a highly respected Republic war hero,"Katrina said,pausing. She always stopped when she was forced to say Revan's name, forced to hear it and know that it was synonymous with 'myself'.

She looked to Bastila. The Jedi looked right back at her. Clearly Bastila would not bail her out this time. She stepped directly into the pool of light, blinking for a few moments at the sudden change of illumination.

"And the former dark Lord Revan,"Katrina finally added.

"Revan?" This voice was different now. The calm, resolved voice that had spoken before was replaced with a gritty one that said her name like it was some unsavory dish.

"We have heard the rumors of Revan's death," another completely different voice added. Apparently Revan would be the subject that gave the rest of the members of the Committee a voice.

"We have also heard rumors of her involvement with the fall of Malak," said another.

"The rumors are entirely accurate," Bastila quickly said. "Revan indeed was resurrected when Malak turned against her, and returned to the light side of the Force and helped to destroy the dark lord who had risen in her stead."

"What does this attack have to do with our planet, Jedi Bastila?" This voice spoke Basic but with a hint of Twi'leki accent. "Surely many planets would have possible reasons to attack a former dark lord."

Katrina basked in her anonymity for the moment; in a few more they would all be stoning her to death.

"Our investigations on the attack show evidence that the weapon used was a specialized demolitions device, such as the weapons produced here on Anelli," Bastila continued.

"We have reason to believe there is a connection between this planet and Revan," Katrina said.

_My reason being the supremely suspicious behavior of the Jedi Council and the vagueries of an assault droid._

The Committee was silent for some time.

"Revan visited this planet with Malak as a representative of the Jedi," one of the voices continued."They were the ones who approached us and demanded the use of our resources in the war."

"They later returned again, this time as lord and apprentice, and again demanded the use of our resources in the war."

"I assume you refused both times." Bastila murmured.

"Yes."

"Why didn't the Sith attack the planet when you denied them supplies?" Katrina asked.

Through the shadows she could sense a pair of eyes on her. She had no doubt the entire Committee's eyes were on them, but this pair seemed to be staring deeper into her than most. It was the feeling she got when Bastila, with their unshakable bond, looked at her.

She gazed at the vague forms of darkness in turn, trying to identify which it might be.

"Who are you, Master Jedi? We have yet to hear your name." The resolute and unflappable male voice that had greeted themsuddenly returned, every word carefully pronounced as if he was reading from a datapad.

'Katrina' hung on the tip of her tongue but she could feel the eyes of Bastila and her unknown watcher on her. Her delusions of identity wouldn't serve on this occasion.

She would have to be who everyone said she was.

"I am Revan." It felt like acid down her throat.

"You haven't changed." The voice stayed steady, though its tranquil qualities had vanished. They were replaced by a hint of barely suppressed excitement. "When you returned as a Sith I could barely see your face, let alone recognize it." She noticed the marked difference that this voice was using the first person tense; I. There was no 'we'.

"You were angry with me then; I wonder, are you still angry now?" A sense of intimacy came from his words, and the odd thing was that Katrina felt the sense of intimacy rather than her usual indifference when people spoke of their past encounters with her. The feeling of being close with someone she had never met or seen was unsettling. Her hand gripped the hilt of her lightsaber involuntarily.

"I'm sorry, whoever you are. I have no memory of you."

"Revan." The voice spoke her name unbelievably, in awe.

"It's me, it's Phineas." The voice was desperately trying to convey that she should recognize the name, that she should instantly remember. The fact that she couldn't only frustrated her further.

"I'm sorry," she said more forcefully. "I don't know you." Though she had the distinct feeling that she did; a wisp of déjà vu that she had no way of triggering to know whether it was true or not.

"You knew me as Jedi and as Sith. Whatever you are now, you should still be able to recognize your own brother."


	25. Chapter 25

_The anger she had felt was expected, though not welcomed. _

It was standard anger; like the anger of any of the millions who had been wronged by the man opposing her. The required shock at the gravity of what he had done, the sympathy for his victims, the acceptance of her duty as a member of the Republic to strike him down.

He had laughed at her, derisive and cold.

"To think you were once the master, who ruled over all this…who ruled over even myself."

She had merely glared at him, unable to think of any kind of retort to something that was undeniably true.

"To think you were once the one who gave me this." The Sith Lord drew a hand across the mechanical device where his jaw had once been.

Her stomach had threatened to betray her then, but she remembered telling herself that queasiness was the least of her problems.

"I'll still be the one to defeat you in the end, Malak." He had only laughed again.

And when she had killed him, she had tried to remember any trace of him as someone she had once cared about, a man who had once been her 'closest friend', if the Jedi Council was to be believed about anything anymore.

But she remembered nothing, and she struck him down with the cold equanimity of any other Sith trooper in battle.

She glanced behind her from where she stood in the cockpit of the Ebon Hawk.

_She heard their laughing, their shouts of happiness. And all she could do was stare out at the burning Star Forge, watching another part of her life breaking into pieces she would never be able to put back together. _

She felt something warm clasp her hand. She looked up at him.

"Are you all right?" She saw how his fingers encircled hers, his grip firm but not controlling. She looked at his face, no ulterior motive in it other than concern for her.

This was her life. A man who loved her. A scout with a sharp tongue. The name Katrina, a Jedi with a green lightsaber.

That other life beckoned to her with the bent cackle of an old witch, and she shrunk from it as easily as a frightened child.

"It's over." She smiled at him and let him pull her into the circle with the rest of them, resisting the impulse to look over her shoulder and watch the destruction, burning red and fading fast.

* * *

Any semblance of logic or reason seemed to be things that were no longer present in her world. Dustil could have promised to stay with Carth and yet be on the _Ebon Hawk_ beginning Jedi training. She could be both Katrina and Revan. 

She could have a brother and have no knowledge of it.

"I…don't have a brother," she said dumbly.

When she wracked her brain for memories of a family, of a home, of parents and siblings alike, all the Council had seen fit to give her were faceless, generic memories. Smiling people who might have been related to her or not, like the kind that beckoned to you in advertisements.

"I suppose you are still angry," the voice murmured ruefully, "You said as much the last time you were here."

She couldn't see his face, and it bothered her. All she heard was a voice coming out of the darkness informing her that she had a brother.

Coherant questions wouldn't form despite the fact that she had hundreds of them.

"If you seek your connection with this planet, Master Jedi, we suggest you converse further with your brother." One of the other voices picked up the uncomfortable break in conversation. "The Committee will excuse you, Phineas."

"But…wait, we have…we have this list…" Her usual eloquence deserted her and she fumbled for the datapad containing the names.

"Whatever evidence on your attack you might have, Master Jedi, you may review with Phineas. He is privy to all information we might give you."

_I don't want to go over it with some stranger saying he's my non-existent brother. _

She looked at Bastila desperately for help. The Jedi looked, for once, speechless and out of any bright ideas.

A door opened in the side of the room, another beam of light breaking through the darkness, a rather unsubtle cue for them to exit. It led only to another empty waiting room.

She stared into the darkness once more, looking for some kind of visual proof that these voices weren't merely in her head. When she found none, she and Bastila moved quickly towards the exit.

Katrina began to pace.

"That was entirely pointless," she muttered to the floor._  
_  
"Pointless? Revan, we have discovered a vital part of our investigation," Bastila said eagerly. "We now know your connection with this planet."

Could she help it if the connection wasn't one she wanted? That she would have rather had an enraged populace hounding her for crimes she didn't remember than a brother embracing her with a fondness she didn't fathom? The former she was at least used to dealing with.

"This may have been what the Jedi Council was reluctant to tell you."

_Of course it's what the Council didn't want to tell me. Why should they tell me anything about myself after having fabricated my entire identity for me?_ Her thoughts were bitter, and she knew this wasn't how she should have been reacting.

'Should' was a word she decided she wasn't going to think about.

"Did you know about this?"Katrina wheeled unexpectedly on Bastila, her finger held out threateningly.

"No, I knew nothing of this. The details of your family and your personal past are not something the Jedi felt was required for my mission." _And if they weren't required, then why didn't they leave them with me?  
_  
"Whoever this is, he's not any brother of mine. It must be a lie. Maybe he's behind the attack." Bastila raised her eyebrow.

"Perhaps some Onasi paranoia has rubbed off on you after all. No, Revan-"

"Don't call me Revan,"Katrina snapped.

"I felt his earnestness through the Force," the Jedi continued, undeterred. "He was indeed surprised to see you."

"Surprised because he expected me dead?"

"Honestly-"

"Upon what grounds do you expect me to believe this, Bastila? Simply because he says so?" Bastila hesitated for a moment, as if playing out the next few words she planned to say in her head, estimating the degree of Katrina's reaction to them.

"You said the same thing after Malak informed you of your true identity. I wonder if even now you are still trying to convince yourself that parts of your past are a lie."

The Force and her stubborn incredulity played against each other on either sides of her brain. She had no memory of a brother.

But she had that feeling, that stone lodged in the pits of her stomach where facts were written by the hand of the Force, indisputable and absolute: Phineas had spoken the truth.

"Regardless of your personal feelings, we must meet with him," Bastila continued steadily. "He can provide us with the information we need."

_There is no suspicion. There is no denial. There are no personal feelings.  
_  
Katrina stopped pacing and concentrated on running her fingers over the edges of her lightsaber. It was simultaneously comforting and frightening to know that she could easily end all these problems by pulling it out and slicing through every living thing in the building.

Another door in the corner of the room opened.

"I don't blame you for being angry, Revan. I wasn't exactly courteous to you the last time you were here."

Phineas spoke with that same firm and steady voice that said being a born leader might exist solely in his vocal cords. Physically he was trim and straight shouldered, though not muscular. A strong breeze wouldn't knock him over, but it might make him stumble.

She recognized the pair of hazel eyes set in his face. They were the same ones that stared back at her whenever she looked in a mirror.

"I imagine I wasn't particularly courteous either." It was all she could think of saying, as if he was a random stranger who had bumped into her in a crowd and they were making small talk amid apologies.

"You are Revan's brother then?" Bastila murmured, eying Katrina as if to say 'here's your tangible evidence'.

Phineas nodded.

"It's been a long time, Revan. I had thought…well, I had thought you were dead."

"Did that upset you?" Katrina said, much more nastily than she had intended.

"Of course it did! For Force's sake, Revan, you're still my sister, despite whatever you are to the rest of the galaxy." His arms were extended, as if he expected her to rush into them. She stared at them as though they might transform into sarlacc tendrils and devour her any second.

"I'm afraid Revan has no memory of you, Phineas," Bastila murmured gently.

The young- well, not exactly young. It was hard to put an age on him, actually. Phineas furrowed his brow.

"I don't understand."

"I have no brother," Katrina repeated. "And my name isn't Revan, it's Katrina." She saw Bastila sigh heavily out of the corner of her eye.

"Katrina?" He said her name as though it was the name of a meal he found particularly unappetizing. "Revan, what are you talking about?"

"The Jedi planned an ambush for Lord Revan," Katrina struggled not to throttle Bastila, who must have repeated this story at least a hundred times.

She hated the story with the passion of a zealous critic, who saw contrivances and holes in every plot point.

"Malak turned on his master during the ambush, helping us to defeat her. We used the Force to keep Revan from dying and instead gave her a new identity."

"A new identity? What possible purpose could that serve?" Phineas replied derisively.

Katrina fought the realization that she liked him already.

"The Jedi needed information about the Star Forge," Bastila continued defensively. "Information that Revan alone possessed. If we revived her with all her memories intact, it was feared and expected that she would continue to be the Dark Lord and only turn on us all again."

Silence hung on the air for a moment. Katrina only heard the words 'fear', 'Dark Lord', 'turn on us', and 'Revan', echoing over and over again.

"So you have no idea who I am?" Phineas finally said, turning to Katrina.

She suddenly felt sorry for him.

"Other than your name is Phineas, you're a member of that Committee, and you claim to be my brother, no."

He nodded again.

_There is no guilt, guilt of a different kind than most. There is no feeling that although I have done him no bodily harm, I have harmed him all the same.  
_  
"Well, I won't keep you then." His voice was suddenly back to that firm, unflinching politician's inflection she had heard in the Committee chambers. "You must be quite busy with this investigation. Can I help you in any way? You had mentioned something about a list of names?"

She shook herself out of her reverie.

"We've investigated the local demolitions plant and found that they are producing several prototype weapons on a limited basis for private purchasers. These weapons match many of the characteristics of the weapon that was used against my ship." Phineas pursed his lips.

"Yes, the Committee has seen many of these weapons. We approve of their usage and production before sending them to Coruscant." The 'we' was back in his voice, and he was no longer Phineas but the faceless Committee again.

"We obtained this list of the purchasers of these weapons. We'd appreciate it if you could review them and let us know of any connection these people might have had with Revan."

Phineas eyed her as she said the name, like referring to herself in the third person was grounds for lunacy. He reached out for the datapad. She placed it in his hand, her fingers brushing against his palm.

She ignored the Force jabbing her in the ribs, telling her that he was undeniably related to her.

"We will review these names and prepare a report for you. If you'll return here tomorrow evening, we can present our findings to you and answer any other questions you might have."

"Thank you." Phineas smiled weakly.

"It's the least we can do, Master Jedi." His answer was drier, more the voice of a droid than a human being. With an abrupt nod of his head, he clasped his hands behind his back and exited the room.

Bastila harrumphed loudly.

"Well it's obvious you're related," she snapped. "Denial must run rampant in your genetic line."

_There is no flaring of the nostrils, there are no clenched fists. There is no desire to tell your quasi-mentor and good friend to shove it.  
_  
"We're not related. He's not my brother."

"You may convince yourself of that, but you'll have precious little luck deluding me as well."

"You haven't the slightest idea how it feels, Bastila."

"Haven't I? I know exactly how I _would_ have felt if you hadn't pushed me to forgive my mother." Her voice was softer, more easily wounded.

That fact didn't stop Katrina from continuing.

"If you and your damned Jedi Council had decided to leave me with the memory of a mother, let alone a brother, I might feel the same way." These words came as she simultaneously remembered that Bastila's mother was now no more than a memory herself.

"I'm sorry-" she said, turning to the Jedi. Bastila brushed past her, her head high and her anger more than palpable to Katrina. She felt it coursing through her veins, frighteningly familiar and comforting. She felt it coursing through Bastila's, and she felt the remorse that she had caused it.

"Let's get back to the _Hawk,_" The Jedi replied calmly.


	26. Chapter 26

After having counted them at least twice, Katrina had determined that there were about two hundred and twelve holes in the steel plating above her.

She rolled over in her uncomfortable bunk, trying to bore herself into slumber. It shouldn't have been this difficult. She was used to sleeping alone- sharing a bed with Carth was still something she had been getting used to.

The rest of the women on the ship- Bastila, Juhani, and Mission- had been dreaming uneventfully for hours. Only Bastila wore a somewhat cross look on her unconscious face.

"You two look like you had a run-in with a couple of lusty cantina bar flies," Canderous had muttered as the two of them walked up the gangplank after their meeting with the Committee.

Katrina smirked, thinking of Turk back in the demolitions factory. He hadn't been too far off, at least in Bastila's case.

"And now that you're back, you'd better be able to fill us in better than Coppertop over there," Mission added, putting her hands on her hips.

HK-47 looked equally perturbed. Katrina saw a wisp of smoke rise from the equipped flame thrower on his left arm, and she shot him a look. The droid lowered his arm.

"Later, Mission." She had watched Bastila storm off towards the crew quarters.

_Fine. Let her be angry._ But she knew how dangerous anger was; how grudges had a way of turning into hatred. She knew how dangerous it was for her to have these feelings, let alone Bastila, who was still recovering from her own fall, albeit brief, to the dark side.

But she had no desire to become an insufferable lecture-happy Jedi, always following Bastila around and waxing poetic on the redemption and the power of the light side she knew nothing about. The Jedi was her own person; Katrina was neither master nor of a higher rank. It wasn't her place or responsibility.

Juhani looked as though a plasma explosion wouldn't rouse her. She was deep in the sleep of righteousness, and Katrina certainly didn't envy her.

She had come upon Dustil sitting at the workbench, a look of frustration on his sweaty face. Juhani had stood behind him, looking drained.

He had glanced up at her momentarily, then went back to his work with an even more determined look on his face.

He was attempting to set the crystal in his lightsaber, and evidently having a rough time of it. She wondered if was still the red that had menaced them on Korriban or if he had chosen a different color.

"Revan, you have returned," Juhani said, with a somewhat relieved sigh. "Were you able to discover any more on the attack?"

"Only what we already suspected about the weapon having originated from this planet. We should have a few names to follow up on by tomorrow, though." Juhani nodded.

"And what of your connection to the planet? Have you learned any more?" Katrina leaned up against the doorway, folding her arms in front of her.

"Revan visited this planet in both wars, as both Jedi and Sith, for the same reason: to try and get supplies of demolitions out of the planetary government."

"I assume both visits were unsuccessful." Katrina nodded.

_And then once you've got the Star Forge, demolitions from an obscure planet seem to be a little redundant._

"Did the Sith attack the planet once your request for arms was denied?" Juhani had always phrased her questions about Revan carefully. It was always the Sith rather than the Sith Lord, and the Cathar never made the painful distinction between the body that carried out the orders and the person who gave them.

Katrina shook her head.

Dustil glanced up at her again.

"That doesn't sound like the Sith to me."

"Watch what you're doing. You're liable to slice off an ear or two," she said, motioning towards his half-reconstructed lightsaber.

"Why didn't you attack the planet?" he asked again, ignoring her.

"I imagine it had something to do with it being heavily populated and completely innocent." He equated her with death and destruction and little else.

"Innocence and gravity mean nothing to the Sith," Dustil had said, undaunted by her obvious attempts to put him off the subject. "I'd say you had some kind of personal reason not to attack it. What was it?"

_There is no personal reason. There is no brother. _

"I don't know. Why didn't you attack your father?" she had finally snapped. Dustil dropped the lightsaber. It clattered loudly on the workbench, fizzled and sparked, and was quiet again.

The younger Onasi pushed himself away from the bench and stalked off down the corridor.

Anger seemed to be the only thing she was capable of fostering at that moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Juhani had waved her away, a tired smile on her face.

"Do not apologize, my friend. Dustil has...absorbed much in one day." The Cathar looked down the corridor in the direction her Padawan had gone.

"There is much sadness in him. He mourns his family, his father, his friends."

"His father isn't dead." She sounded so defensive, as if that was the constant taunt of her schoolmates.

"He mourns his actions against his father," Juhani clarified. "But his anger prevents him from dealing with these emotions." She shook her head.

"I have introduced the Jedi Code to him, but I believe he is merely humoring me when he claims to understand it."

The Code was only words. As if by thinking that something didn't exist, the Jedi could make it disappear.

"I believe he will benefit from seeing it in practice, as well as getting off of this ship for a while."

Katrina now frowned, trying unsuccessfully to mash her pillow into a more comfortable shape. She didn't want him following her, asking the questions that Bastila and Juhani's Jedi training and friendship with her kept them from asking. Dustil had no such scruples.

Her eyes, having fought against the pressure of gravity, finally succumbed and closed. The reassuring feeling of darkness only lasted a few seconds.

Something metal was poking her in the shoulder.

"T3?" The little droid had rolled up next to her bunk, and was now prodding her awake. Katrina pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes.

"What is it?"

The droid's announcement was so agitated that she almost couldn't make it out.

"An intruder asking for me?" she said groggily. The droid seemed to nod.

Katrina stood, stretching and reaching for her lightsaber. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it- she doubted she would be very effective with it in her half-awakened state.

Night on Anelli consisted of a dark maroon sky, three yellow moons forming a sort of halo over mountains in the distance. She saw them beckoning in the windows of the cockpit as she headed towards it.

She also saw HK-47 with his blaster aimed squarely between the eyes of Phineas, seated in the co-pilot chair and not daring to blink an eye.

_There is no personal reason. There is no brother._

"I requested that you find a place on the ship to dispose of this meatbag's body," HK began scathingly upon seeing T3. "Not disturb the master."

"Apology: I am sorry, Master. I intended on having this meatbag out of sight by the time you awakened. Shall I shoot him quietly, or did you have a more suitable punishment in mind?" Katrina reached out for HK's blaster, attempting to lower it from its threatening position. She found that she couldn't fight the droid's strength and finally let go.

"What are you doing here?" she said calmly. Phineas looked at her, his face still not in the least concerned that an assault droid had a blaster trained on him less than two centimeters or so away.

"Explanation: The meatbag approached the ship asking to speak with you, Master. He believes himself to be your brother, and as I have no knowledge of you speaking of any brother, I naturally assumed he was an assassin attempting to kill you," HK added, interrupting whatever Phineas' open mouth had planned on saying.

"While I appreciate the gesture, HK, in the future inform me if any other visitors come to the ship rather than blasting them on sight, hmm?" The droid finally lowered his blaster.

"Acknowledgement: As you wish, Master, though I will take the opportunity later to remind you of the meaning of the HK model designation." HK turned to T3.

"You lack obedience, but are proficient in defiance. I am uncertain as to whether this is an admirable quality or not." The two droids continued down the corridor.

They made an odd pair, but Katrina remembered many instances that the two had kept them safe while they slept.

She turned back to Phineas. Out of the government office, away from the clean lines and bright lighting, he looked very pale.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you," 'I' was back again, and again she pitied him. "I didn't know what kind of hours you kept, and I didn't think I could wait until you and your fellow Jedi returned to the Committee to talk with you."

"What is it?"

"Revan, you're my sister. Whether you remember it or not, a simple genetic test would confirm it. But somehow I think you know that you are."

She knew. If she didn't innately feel it in the pits of her stomach, she would have no problem using her assault droid to throw him off the ship and going back to bed.

"I'm not the person you remember," she replied.

"Well, I'd at least like a chance to find out." She recognized the tenacity in his voice. It was something she shocked herself with daily.

_There _are_ personal reasons. There _is_ a brother. _Merely thinking that there wasn't wouldn't will him away.

_Listening doesn't mean I have to believe it. Listening does not automatically make me Revan, _she reminded herself.

Katrina seated herself in the pilot's chair. It smelled faintly of Carth, who had sat in it the most; a mixture of oil, sweat, and the leather from his old jacket.

Phineas gazed at her with the devotion of a family pet. His gaze made her uncomfortable, and she looked away.

"I bet you don't remember Anelli, either." She shook her head.

"I guess you wouldn't want to remember it, in any case. You couldn't wait to leave." A fleeting image of the smiling faces she remembered as her family appeared in her head. She noticed the ground beneath their feet was red. Did she remember or was she subconsciously coloring it red trying to?

"This was Revan's homeworld?" Phineas narrowed his eyes at her third-person referrals, but continued.

"Yes. We were born here. I've never left it my whole life. You, on the other hand, jumped at the chance. But with Mother dead and all-" Phineas sighed.

So her mother was all but a word now. Not even a memory.

"What am I saying? You wouldn't know that. You probably have no memory of a mother."

She felt anger from him, burning like a struck match and dying out just as quickly.

"What was she like?" She longed for a memory, even if it was one she would create for herself from his telling.

"She died around the time the Jedi made their second visit to the planet. On their first they recruited you and Malak-"

"This was Malak's homeworld too?" Phineas nodded.

"That must have been difficult for you," he murmured sympathetically.

"What?"

"Having to kill him." His eyes narrowed. "I had heard that you were the one to do it. Was I wrong?"

His defeated face looking up at her, ice blue eyes already far away. Pulling her lightsaber cleanly from his torso.

No, killing Malak was something she had a clear and vivid memory of doing.

"No. I killed him."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. I know how much you cared about him." The only image she carried of Malak as something other than someone she was destined to kill was the vision of the Dantooine Star Map; a young man watching her cloaked form intently. Even as she had analyzed the vision over and over, she had always determined it was a devious stare, trying to find her weaknesses and plotting to betray her even then.

That it might have been the concerned look of a friend was something she couldn't grasp.

"I left to join the Jedi?" He seemed encouraged by her unconscious switch to first-person.

"You were always strong-willed, Revan, and stubborn. You left and Malak followed."

Another flash of anger from him.Katrina eyed him suspiciously.

"I guess you can tell I'm somewhat bitter," he murmured. "You're giving me that look of yours."

"What look?"

"That Jedi look,"Phineas smirked.

"You used to tell me how childish and self-centered I could be when you were a Jedi, especially when I voted against giving you weapons for the Republic war effort. I suppose it was ironic when you presented them as strengths to me when you returned as a Sith."

"Strengths?" He twiddled his thumbs together idly, looking at his feet. Finally he lifted his head slightly, barely looking at her.

"You tried to recruit me into the Sith, Revan." She could see why- he was an easy target. The bitterness over her absence was causing the random spurts of anger she could feel through the Force.

"Why?"

"I suppose for a contact inside the governing body of a planetary demolitions factory. That and you were always a little disappointed I never used my talents the same way you and Malak did." She felt the strength of the Force faintly within him, like a small withering plant.

"You're Force sensitive then?"

"Not nearly as much as you or Malak were. But enough that you seemed to think I would add to your arsenal of Sith."

"Did I succeed?"Phineas gave a little triumphant smile.

"I didn't want to become one of your mindless soldiers, no matter how tempting you made it sound."

He had darker hair than hers. While hers was more of a dull brown, the color of mud, his was an almost black.

"But I didn't kill you."

"No. No, you didn't,"the politiciansmiled again.

"Even then you knew me as your brother. You hadn't completely turned into an emotionless killing machine. Which I suppose is why now, when you've returned to being a determined and fearless Jedi again, it's hard for me to grasp that you don't know me."

He reached a hand out towards her. She didn't know whether he expected her to take it or hold it- she didn't know what kinds of physical traditions there might have been between brother and sister in the past. She finally decided upon placing her hands on the armrests of the chair and looking nonchalantly at it.

"Who are you now, Revan? Who is this Katrina person the Jedi created for you?"

_She was never a genocidal Sith Lord. That, I suppose, is her most redeeming quality._

"Katrina was a scout within the Republic's ranks." She saw at once how cardboard and flimsy her identity was; how it was only a fluttering paper mask designed for one-time use.

Phineas nodded, withdrawing his hand upon seeing that she wasn't going to accept it.

"It must make you angry- knowing nothing of your past other than a scout and a Sith Lord." Rage was on a constant simmer inside of her- usually it took very little to make it boil over.

ButKatrina choked it down all the same, and gazed at her own eyes set in her brother's head.

"It's late." Phineas smiled.

"Still as subtle as a trip mine, I see." He pushed himself up from the chair.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you, Revan." She stood.

"I guess we'll see each other again tomorrow evening." Phineas nodded.

"I'd like that." Whether she would or not she didn't know. She said nothing and watched him leave the cockpit.

Then, as soon as she was sure he was off the ship, when she could see his form through the windows of the cockpit and feel his relieved presence leaving through the Force, she curled back up in the pilot's chair and struggled to pretend it was Carth embracing her rather than an inanimate object that carried the memory of him.


	27. Chapter 27

_"This is a great risk you're taking." She turned and smirked at him, amused more by the evident irritation on his face that showed he knew she was smirking despite the mask she wore. _

"Afraid, Malak?" He folded his arms in front of him, watching her as she moved her hands over the ancient relic.

There was some way to activate it, she was sure of it. If not, it was a return to the Council, to more menial assignments, to more tests of the abilities she knew were far ahead of whatever pathetic standards they were measuring her against.

"If this relic exists, this device the droid spoke of, the Council will only direct you and I away from it. They will be the ones to reap the benefits, not us."

That, and once it was activated it would put a stop to Malak's constant doubts.

"They don't know we're here, do they?" He set his jaw stubbornly at her, and she thought of how it was perhaps the only defiant and stubborn bone in his body.

"What the Council doesn't know won't hurt them," she continued, turning back to the relic. "And whatever it is, I'll be the first to discover it." She would be the first to wield its power, to know its secrets. She would no longer be a newly initiated Jedi Knight, still treated like a Padawan by the Council and told to study and reflect on the archives whenever she expressed an opinion contrary to theirs.

Her future would be hers alone, and it would not be dictated by the antiquated lessons of long dead and spineless Jedi. She would be the first of a new kind of Jedi, the kind that did not fear their own power.

The device finally gave a loud creak, extending its four arms open like an ancient spider. She stepped back and watched as the darkened ruins filled with a bright light.

"They'll have felt it's awakening," Malak murmured, stepping closer to her. "They'll know the ruins have been disturbed."

"They know nothing," she snapped. "Not one of them could have come this far." It was a map; an incomplete map to be sure, but a map all the same. A map leading her to the mysterious device that would give her the power to do unimaginable things.

"Turn back if you're afraid, Malak."

"I'm not afraid." He was defensive, and she felt a twinge of guilt. She had been accusing him of cowardice; calling out his hesitance since the instant they had entered the ruins.

But he was still standing next to her, wasn't he? He wouldn't abandon her.

"Good. There's no one else I'd trust to help me." He smiled faintly.

"Don't worry, my friend," she added, passing a hand idly through the projection, watching the planets align within her fingers, as if she could control them and bend them to her will. "What we find will change everything."

* * *

Katrina pulled her fingers painfully through a knot at the end of her braided hair. 

It had been the first real vision she had had since Manaan, since rounding up the last of the Star Maps. The rest of her images of Revan were either fevered products of her nightmares or the wishful thinking of her dreams.

But this…this had bore the unmistakable marks of reality, of something that had actually happened. And the words that had ended it, the words she had spoken to the Dark Lord Malak- 'my friend.'…they were chewing mercilessly on her thoughts.

_Given a choice of things to invade my subconscious, I think I'd rather have the slaughtered villagers than a concerned and friendly Malak.  
_  
She paced about the waiting room of the government office. Juhani and Bastila glanced at her. Bastila's gaze lingered, and Katrina wondered if she too had been privy to the vision, if their bond still connected them in that way.

If it did, the Jedi was apparently going to keep it to herself.

Dustil stood off a ways from them, rubbing his neck. His hair was matted up on one side, and his eyes looked around somewhat contemptuously, as if it weren't for everyone in the room he might have been back in bed.

"You look like you spent the night with a couple Gamorreans," she commented.

Dustil looked at her, yawning in response. He cast his gaze away from her, as if she would be able to see what might have plagued him in his sleep through his eyes.

If anything had, apparently he was going to keep it to himself as well.

"Had you warned me that we were going to be in a waiting room for the majority of the day, I might have stayed back on the _Hawk_ and watched the Twi'lek and the Wookiee argue. That at least might have carried the merit of some entertainment." At the moment, she could tell that the Mandalorian's only source of pleasure was watching the slightly shocked looks on the faces of the various workers who sometimes wandered through the waiting room.

Their shocked looks didn't make much sense. The planet hadn't been conquered by the Mandalorians- somewhat surprising considering its obvious resources, location, and being largely ignored in the grand schemes of the Republic. Katrina made a mental note to ask Canderous about it at the next opportunity.

Well, he wouldn't be bored for much longer. _If Phineas can give me the name of the person who attacked us, there will be some definite violence.  
_  
"Who are we waiting for, exactly?" Dustil murmured to Juhani.

"A representative of the local governing body, I believe. Revan and Bastila made inquiries yesterday about purchasers of possible weapons used in the attack, and the representative may be able to shed some light on their identity." Juhani turned to him.

"You see one way of approaching the problem. But tell me, with what the Sith have taught you- what would their route have been?"

Dustil looked perturbed at her mentioning of his former political alignment, but didn't seem to fly off the handle. Maybe he understood the Code better than Juhani had thought.

"What does the government know about it? Wouldn't it make more sense to go confront the purchasers in person? For all we know, they might be plotting another attack right now. Better to strike while you have the upper hand."

_Then again_, Katrina thought with a slight sense of I-told-you-so, _maybe the Code only applies to surface reactions.  
_  
"And what happens if during the confrontation the person makes a comment that seems to align them to the other side, despite possible personal reasons they may have for their comments? You wouldn't know of these things- you might even kill them before knowing the whole story or whether they were even related to the attack."

Dustil looked hardened.

"Better they die before being able to betray you again." It was this underlying strain of uncontrollable venom that made her fear him. That, at any given moment, he might crack and try to kill her for what she had done to his planet, to his parents, to his mother, to himself.

And if that moment ever came, she wasn't sure it would end without bloodshed.

"If you believed such a thing, Dustil, if you believed that redemption were not possible, how could you have begun the path of a Jedi yourself?" He rubbed his neck, looking ruefully at the Cathar.

Juhani had the singular gift of making the younger Onasi realize things without making him too angry to see it.

"Revan. You're early."Katrina glanced up towards the doorway.

Phineas was more in his element here at the government offices. On the _Hawk_ he had seemed so much smaller, so much more vulnerable. She had felt sorry for him. Here, however, it seemed easier to forget Revan existed, to write him off as a random official rather than an undeniable blood relative.

The Committee had apparently decided that she was no longer worth their collective time, and instead seemed to be opting for a forced reunion between herself and her brother.Whether this was the brother's doing or not she didn't know.

"I see you've brought more of your companions."

"Do you have any information on the list of names I gave you?" He sighed impatiently, perhaps perturbed at her complete disregard for his polite efforts.

"I'm Phineas, a member of the Committee, the local governing body of Anelli." Juhani nodded politely.

"I am Juhani, another Jedi assisting Revan." Phineas glanced at Dustil.

"Dustil." Apparently he didn't like the prefix of Padawan. Her brother's eyes finally roamed over Canderous, who stood with his arms folded, appraising both him and the situation with a calculating stare. A few seconds of silence passed until Phineas finally gave up, turning back to Katrina.

"We have reviewed the list of names that you gave to us. I must say I was surprised when we received word of how you acquired them. Lady Trina and Bastila Ordo, eh?"

The Mandalorian's only response was to raise an eyebrow and stare at each of the two women in turn. Katrina stared back. Bastila, on the other hand, had the unfortunate hitch of a furious blush.

"We have reviewed them for their past connections with you, Revan, and the Sith. This shortened the list considerably. We were able to narrow it down to five possible leads," Phineas continued, looking at them suspiciously as if the inside joke might have been about him.

"All five of these individuals purchased the prototype weapons, as well as being sometimes violent opposition towards the Sith on this planet."

"Did any of them ever meet me personally?" Phineas looked uncomfortable.

"A few." He lowered his voice, stepping closer to her.

"Some of these individuals are members of the Committee, my long time friends and colleagues."

And he was ratting them out for her. He was suddenly her brother again. She let her hand grasp his shoulder momentarily and he looked from it to her before continuing.

"I suppose you could visit each of them in turn and return here to ask me any questions you might have."

"Could you tell me anything about them now?"

"As much as I can that won't incriminate me if they're observing this room," he replied with a smirk, still in that low, cautious tone.

Dustil had crept forward, straining to hear. She felt his breath on her neck and glared at him. He stepped back towards the respectful distance that the rest of the party had been keeping.

"Two are officials: Abbas and Sakh. Another- Haytham - is a highly respected corporate officer within the Anellian Mining Corporation. The last two, Faris and Ruhol, are part of the great many rich and idle men here on Anelli." He glanced around furtively.

"More than that I can't say within the confines of these walls. All their connections with you I've downloaded into your datapad."

"What ruled out the rest of the names on that list of yours?" Canderous finally said.

"They were either researchers from rival demolitions companies, private collectors, or exhibitors who had legitimate reasons to purchase the specialty weapons. Any of them might have a motive, but the five I've given you have the most obvious ones." Her brother seemed to be an odd mixture of physical cowardice and verbal fearlessness. He seemed to shrink when faced with the Mandalorian, but his face and his voice betrayed nothing.

She felt elated. She had names, and she had motives. She would finish whatever the attacker had started, and go back to Carth.

"Thank you, Phineas." She spoke his name for the first time, feeling how easy it was to say, as if she had been saying it her whole life.

_I probably have been saying it my entire life.  
_  
Her brother nodded.

"Short of hunting down whomever attacked you, it's the least I can do. Return and let me know if you've caught the perpetrator. Anelli's resources are at your disposal if you need them." He gave a slight bow to the rest of her companions.

Something in her watched him as he turned away, back towards the exit, and desperately felt that if she didn't stop him now, she'd never see him again.

"Wait." She turned to Bastila. The only one of the group who knew of Phineas, her brother, and the only one she had hurt hours ago.

"Bastila-"The Jedi nodded without even waiting for her to finish.

Bastila's difficulty with apologies was one of her redeeming qualities- because of it, she never expected them out of anyone else.

The Jedi motioned for the rest of them to follow. Juhani turned, half pulling Dustil with her, who narrowed his eyes at Katrina as if she were sending them away so she could plot against them.

Canderous stood, regarding the two for one more moment, then finally turned and left the room with the rest of them.

Phineas stood, his hands behind his back and his shoulders squared.

"Was there something more you needed, Revan?"

'My friend' echoed in her ears.

"What do you know about Malak?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Malak is dead, Revan- he couldn't have attacked you. I think rising from the dead is a talent only you seem to possess."

"I don't mean in terms of the attack,"Katrina added curtly.

She was asking about something as repulsive as the chewed up arm she remembered staring at in the sewers of Taris. Repulsive and horrific, yes, but difficult to keep from looking at.

"Malak grew up with us, Revan,"Phineas murmured. "He was your closest friend."

"So the Jedi tell me. What they don't tell me is why or how." She watched his hand reach up to pull absent-mindedly on his earlobe- something she did when she was thinking or nervous.

"I liked him. Before you both ran off to become Jedi, or ran off again to become Sith, I liked him. He was never brash or charismatic or as talented as you were, but then again very few of us were."

Malak was nothing but a stock villain to her, perhaps a little more personally so in that it was his words that made Revan live again, his taunting revelation upon the _Leviathan_ that had changed everything. She sometimes wondered what would have happened if he hadn't chosen to give into pride, unable to resist the chance to gloat over his old master. Would she even now have no idea that she was Revan?

Would she even now be standing here, in front of her brother?

"Why ask about Malak, Revan?" Phineas' words intruded on her thoughts. "You aren't remembering anything, are you?"

"Not exactly remembering." She always hesitated before telling someone of her visions, of her dreams. They only cemented the fact that something was wrong with her, that she would have inevitably fell to the dark side considering all the neuroses she was privy to.

But the Force beckoned through her brother, and she went on.

"I only had a vision of Malak earlier, before…" _Before I killed him._

"He's only another Sith to be killed to you, isn't he?" He wasn't harsh but she felt worse all the same. "I suppose it's ironic, considering he could barely get your attention as anything else either."

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for his explanation. Phineas smiled.

"You were the important one, Revan. Malak followed you everywhere and in everything. He probably wouldn't have joined the Jedi if it weren't for you." He laughed suddenly.

"You thought him more annoying than agizka when he first started following you around. You hated the way he was always so cautious, how he knew the rules and followed them, whereas you were breaking them before they had even been made."

_"They'll have felt its awakening. They'll know the ruins have been disturbed."_

She had always cast Malak as the big, dumb Sith animal, the one who needed the leash, who needed to be restrained by the intelligent and discriminating Revan.

She felt goose bumps rise on her skin. Instead, she had been the alpha, and Malak only the slinking beta at her heels.

"I thought he was annoying, but he ended up as my closest friend?" Phineas shrugged.

"He was loyal. You liked that. His parents had died in an accident long before the time the two of you left for the Jedi. I suppose you were the only family he had left."

The anger was there again, and she watched a grim smile appear on his face.

"He could have stayed here. I could have used the company. And then maybe none of this Sith business would have ever happened."

"We made quite a strange trio," he added, "You would get into trouble, Malak would get into it with you while trying to convince you not to, and I would laugh at you both when you came back with your tails between your legs. " His tone wafted down to a somber area, more of a bass than the low tenor his voice usually was.

"The Force must have done terrible things to him to make him even defy you, let alone turn on you and attack."

She wondered what she must have thought in that moment, the moment she fell, the moment she died. She wondered if Revan had known that Malak had betrayed her, or assumed that it was a random Republic ship having broken through her seemingly invincible fleet. And if Revan had known that her apprentice had turned on her, that an old friend had betrayed her- what had she felt?

_"Good. There's no one else I'd trust to help me."  
__  
_She had said the words, even if she didn't remember them. She had recognized her own voice, even in her vision.

Katrina finally nodded in acknowledgement.

"You know you can come to me if you have any other questions. Other than the attack, I mean." She nodded again.

She suddenly thought of Carth right after his friend had told him of Dustil, of his survival and his involvement with the Sith. What was there to say? What could you say other than blind reassurance?

"I'll let you know what our investigations turn up."

"I'd appreciate that," Phineas murmured. "I lost my sister three times. I wouldn't like it to be a fourth."


	28. Chapter 28

She found the rest of her companions waiting patiently outside the government offices for her. If Bastila had filled them in on the existence of a brother, they showed no outward sign of it.

"What was that all about?" Dustil demanded.

Evidently, she hadn't filled them in.

"We should get moving. He has taken a great risk in informing on members of high society and the government." Bastila murmured. "We must act before his betrayal is discovered."

"I might be the rookie Jedi around here," Dustil broke in, "But I don't like being left out of the loop."

She remembered dumbly repeating the phrase to Carth when he had said the same thing. His son was reminding her of him and she didn't want to be reminded.

"There is no nosiness, Dustil, there is only minding your own business," she replied tersely.

Canderous pushed himself up from where he had been leaning against the building.

"What's the plan?" She had always liked that about the Mandalorian- he didn't waste time and he didn't mince words.

Katrina pulled out the datapad. Phineas had been thorough and efficient. The names were listed with the location of their homes highlighted on a map of Fornia, along with dates of any kinds of notable action against the Sith.

"Looks like Faris and Ruhol are the nearest. Their townhouses are in the heart of the city." She glanced over the record of Faris.

"The owner of a large fleet of his own personal battle droids," Katrina read aloud, "Faris makes his money in finding creative ways to hide Anellian demolitions within normal assault droid features."

"Better not let Coppertop get wind of it," Canderous chucked, more of a low growling noise than normal humor. "He might want a few upgrades."

"Faris at first was the head of a movement to supply the Sith with demolitions when they demanded the use of the planet's resources. When the Committee denied the Sith's request, Faris then privately agreed to supply them with battle droids from his own personal collection. It was reported, however, that when the Sith went to collect the droids, the droids turned on them and attacked."

"Sounds like he had a change of heart," Dustil murmured.

"Was there any reason?" Bastila said, moving next to Katrina as if her eyes could garner something more out of Phineas' report.

The report on Faris ended there, though Katrina could probably fill in the rest.

_He/She/It turned on Revan because of the death/maiming/torture/destruction of family/friends/dreams/ambitions/life._

She imagined everyone wronged by Revan could probably sum it up using that sentence and circling the correct words.

"Anything more we'll have to get out of the man himself." _That of which can be extracted verbally, at any rate._

She followed the map Phineas had dutifully drawn up for her, though she found that she barely needed to look at it. An innate sense of direction seemed to be guiding her. Scout abilities or having lived here once, she supposed.

The homes of the wealthy in Fornia were set in the middle of the city, down alleyways that ended at the bases of mountains- far enough from the spaceports and the factories to allow all the peace and quiet money could buy. Faris' was easily distinguished from the others by the several assault droids that stood outside its doors.

"Halt! State your name and business."

"Are there no sentient guards on this planet?" Bastila said to no one in particular.

"Droids only betray you if you program them to," Canderous answered, a wistful quality to his voice that said free will and the capacity to deceive were more of a virtue than a vice.

"We're looking for a man by the name of Faris," Katrina said. The droid's blaster was built into its arm, andshe had to fight to keep from instinctively pulling out her lightsaber despite the fact that the motions of its arm were non-threatening.

"Master Faris is the owner of this estate. State your name and business."

"We are Jedi investigating an attack on a Republic officer," Juhani explained calmly. "We believe your master may have some information on the perpetrator."

"Name?" Katrina raised an eyebrow.

"Did your master program you to be this specific?"

"Name?" the droid repeated. She sighed, frustrated.

"Katrina." The droid seemed to process this for a moment.

"Negative. Identification 'Jedi Katrina' does not appear in the master's 'allow entry' lists. Name?"

"What is this thing, a bouncer?" Dustil muttered.

"Why don't you just go tell your master we're here, and let him decide for himself?"

"Negative. The master does not like to be disturbed. Name?"

"The attack was also made on the former Jedi and Sith Lord Revan," Katrina finally said. The droid stared blankly at her.

"I'm Revan," she tried. The droid immediately cast a scanning beam over her. She winced momentarily at the sudden onslaught of harsh red to her eyes.

"Retinal scan confirmed. Identification 'Revan'. New security objective- elimination."

The four assault droids extended their blaster-equipped arms and aimed them directly at Katrina's head. She heard the noises of three lightsabers extending in addition to her own. She inhaled.

_Four droids against three Jedi, a Mandalorian, and a Padawan with the combat training of a Sith._

The droids were able to make nearly three attempted shots before they lay in pieces at their feet.

"Well, there's a name that opens a lot of doors," Dustil said, holding out his lightsaber and inspecting it carefully as if to rate its performance.

Katrina noticed that it was still red.

"Apparently this Faris has a standing assassination order on your head," Bastila murmured, stepping over the severed arm of the droid who had spoken to them.

"These droids seem to be manufactured defense only- they carry no memory chips that might help us determine a reason behind their orders." Juhani rose from where she had been crouched beside the remains.

Katrina was focused on the door. Either Faris hardly had break-ins, or his droids were usually effective. Either way, the door was simplistic to break open. It slid aside to reveal a long foyer.

"I didn't know Jedi broke into houses," Dustilwhispered to Juhani. The Cathar allowed herself a small smirk.

"The difference between the Sith and the Jedi, Dustil, is that the Jedi wait until breaking into a house is the very last viable option."

Canderous moved forward first, stepping across the threshold. He glanced behind him.

"We didn't break it open for nothing, did we?" Bastila, Juhani, and Dustil finally moved to follow him.

The foyer was sparsely decorated, like the corridors of the many Republic bases she and the newly promoted Carth had been to in the last few months. Primarily form and function, while any kind of décor seemed oddly out of place. There were no guards, and she glanced around, searching for security cameras or trip mines. The hallway ended at another door, this one unlocked.

"I would advise locating Faris as soon as possible." Bastila's cautionary tone had no effect as Canderous moved to open it.

"Unless his droid storeroom is behind this door, we shouldn't have a problem," Katrina murmured in response.

"Exterior units destroyed. Intruder alert." The collective voices of the many droids who had obviously been waiting for them were shrill and overpowering for a moment, and Katrina winced.

_On the other hand..._

She moved quickly, dodging blaster shots and slicing through anything she saw that wasn't organic. She loved fighting droids, welcomed it even. There was no shame in joyfully hacking through mechanical objects. There was no lingering guilt when the corpses were made of wires and metal.

Juhani moved next to her, a whir of blue light and red Jedi robes.

"Destroying all his droids will probably not grant us a kind welcome,"the Catharsaid between adrenaline-laced breaths.

"No," Katrina agreed, slicing through a droid's head to shower sparks everywhere. "It probably won't."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see a rapidly moving beam of red, striking mercilessly against any droids that happened to threaten it. Its owner was silent, his breathing the only indication that he was fighting at all.

She resisted the urge to look over at Dustil, at this moment a frightening example of Sith battle technique at work.

Whether the droids were operating on their own inititive or receiving orders from their Master, their tactical operation left something to be desired. The fifteen or so droids that were now little more than piles of junk at their feet had apparently not called for backup. The rooms were empty, aside from looking a little more lived in than the previous hallway. If Faris was any example of Anellian high society, the rich didn't flaunt their affluency.

"The galaxy must not recall your talents in combat, Revan," Canderous said, picking some stray droid parts off his blaster and tossing them on the floor. "If this Faris believes a couple of droids will be able to execute you."

"Twenty is hardly a couple," Bastila answered. She motioned towards the three doors that led off in unknown directions in each corner of the room.

"Do we continue bashing down doors until we find him?" The critical tone inthe Jedi'svoice was irritating. Katrina ignored it.

_He may have attacked me. He may be the reason that Carth is hurt, he may be the reason that I'm not with Carth._

The 'may' before each of her thoughts was as critical as Bastila's words and she tried to ignore it too.

A blaster shot came from out of nowhere. She deflected it easily.

Two humans emerged from one of the doors, which only led to a large storage room. The woman cowered behind the equally frightened man, holding out a blaster that seemed much too large and powerful for his weak hands.

The red beam slightly behind her began to charge forward, almost on autopilot. She glanced back, watching as Juhani's arm shot out to block Dustil from continuing forward.

"Learn by watching, Padawan. Listen before acting,"theCatharmurmured quietly.

"Stay back!" the man shouted. "Leave us alone, or I'll shoot!"

"For as much good as it'll do you," Canderous said, a slightly amused look on his face.

"Calm down! We have no argument with you!" Katrina called out, reaching out her hand to placate them and realizing quickly that she was extending the one with the blazing lightsaber in it. She quickly swapped and reached out the other.

"We're only servants, please!" the woman said hysterically.

"We won't hurt you," Bastila added. "We're only looking for your master, Faris."

The man's eyes grew narrow.

"The man's crazy! Going against the Sith, the government, holing himself up in this house with all those damn droids..."

"Do you know anything about the Sith's prior visit?" Dustil demanded. The man eyed his red lightsaber. Katrina turned, giving him a withering stare.

He was probably used to interrogations that resulted in torture, not trying to win people over with coaxing and reassuring lies.

"Only that they killed the servants guarding outside," the woman said meekly.

"Are you Sith?" the man asked warily, still staring at Dustil.

"No, we're Jedi," Bastila answered.

_Though this may not be us at our best,_ Katrina thought.

"Look, just tell us where your master is," she said, exasperated.

"Maybe we shouldn't," the woman began, clinging even closer to the man. "Master Faris will-"

"To hell with Faris." the man replied tersely. "I've had enough of being the only servant I know to carry a blaster. We're getting out of here. You'll find him in his study, which is down the hallway through the door to your right." The two crept out past them, the man still eying Dustil as though he were the only one among the five with a weapon extended.

Katrina was already headed towards the door. It too, was unlocked. The droids seemed to have free range of the house, and it seemed they were only bumping into groups of them by coincidence; there were none in the hallway. The study was unlocked. She supposed it was to give access to the servants who had just betrayed their master and fled.

"I told you dolts I wasn't to be disturb-" From behind an enormous black chair, a man half the size of it peered out, silenced when he saw that it wasn't his servants.

Faris stood, a few inches shorter than Katrina herself, with a stringy black comb-over and glassy eyes to match. His study was devoted to his collection of droids: the heads of particularly notable ones were on shelves. This didn't seem to alarm the four that stood on guard in each corner, waiting for their master to give the word.

"I had been watching my cameras to chart your progress into ransacking my home. Tell me, did you enjoy destroying my prized droids, my valuable property?" he sneered.

"In case it didn't show up on those cameras of yours, your droids attacked _me,_" Katrina snapped. The four droids within the room, crackling with the energy of their shields, turned towards her like she had insulted them.

"Of course they did. They are programmed to only attack thieves or someone I very much doubt that you are."

"Might that person be the former Sith Lord Revan?" He chuckled.

"No, you are not him." His voice was nasally and derisive.

"Your droids don't malfunction half as much as you then," Canderous replied icily, stepping forwards. "This is Revan, the _woman_ you tried and failed miserably to kill."

Faris's face turned a sickly gray.

"But...you are dead. The reports...they..."

She felt her grip tighten on the hilt of her lightsaber.

"As much as you might have liked it to be otherwise, I'm very much alive. And very, very angry."

Simply saying the word 'angry' seemed to make the emotion real, and she could feel it flare up, tangible and all-consuming, within her. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to bash this quivering little man's head into the ground.

"You Sith...you destroy everything, don't you? Not enough that you've stolen what was precious to me, not enough that you're trying to twist Anelli to your purposes, and now you would destroy me in your vengeance for him as well."

"We are not Sith!" Bastila said desperately, stepping forward and glancing at both Katrina and the Mandalorian as if imploring them for their support.

"We are Jedi, and whatever wrongs the Sith committed against you are not our wrongs. Revan has returned to the side of the light. She no longer poses a threat to you." Juhani's voice was steady, and she too slowly stepped forward. Faris backed up, his eyes wild, as if they were all getting ready to jump him.

"More lies! Look, there," he said, pointing a wildly shaking arm towards Dustil. The younger Onasi's eyes narrowed, as if already knew where Faris' words were heading. His face took on an impassive stony glaze, like he could shield himself against it. "Another young man who might have had a future, whom you've twisted to your own miserable purposes. He's got the irreversible taint of the Sith all over him."

Katrina heard his angry breathing hissing through his nostrils, unable to escape through his clenched mouth. But he said nothing. She wondered if he too was barely hanging on to the shreds of common sense that were somehow keeping her from rushing forward and attacking.

"I won't let you have control of me. You may have consumed everything else in your path, but I won't be a part of it." Faris said, stepping back into the center of the room. He reached into his clothing.

She tensed, ready if he should produce a bomb or some other type of weapon.

Instead Faris pulled out a small control device. Looking at Katrina again, with a triumphant look in his glossy black eyes, he pressed a button.

All four of his droids now turned their attention from the intruders to their owner. With a resonating click, all of their blasters rose simultaneously, settling into attack positions.

Katrina turned her head as they all shot a storm of bright red blaster fire directly at Faris.


	29. Chapter 29

For a few seconds, the room was noisy- the sound of the blasters and the dying grunts of Faris echoing like firecrackers and the roar of a rancor from the poor acoustics. After those seconds, all was silence.

Katrina lowered her arm from where it had been shielding her eyes. The droids had automatically shut down after carrying out their final objective. Each one stood slumped over in the corner, as harmless and non-threatening as a coat rack.

A cloud of smoke hovered over the body of Faris where he lay on the floor, his chest a mass of burnt clothing and skin.

Katrina swallowed hard, trying not to think of her conscious moments on the _Jedi Chaser_, touching Carth's face.

"What a fool," Canderous muttered, stepping over the body and waving a hand through the slight cloud of smoke that had risen from it. Katrina wondered momentarily if he was thinking of another waste of life, the suicide of Jagi that had taken place before their very eyes in the deserts of Tatooine.

She moved around the room wordlessly.

"I never really got used to it," she heard Dustil murmur to Juhani. The Cathar looked at him.

"The constant death. Corpses practically being part of the room decorations on Korriban," he added quietly, staring at Faris' corpse.

"It is because you cannot accept such things as being right, as being normal, that you were able to turn from the path of the dark side. Death is never something to get used to, no matter how many battles you may see."

Katrina didn't look at Faris. If she did, she knew the only remorse she would have was that she wasn't able to kill him herself.

There was little else in his study, aside from a cluttered desk and another glass case of weapons in the corner.

"Revan," Canderous said, gesturing towards it. The case was full of hand grenades and other demolitions devices.

"A case of weapons is not enough to condemn the man." Bastila said.

"He was blathering about vengeance and how he expected Revan to be dead. Do you need a signed confession?" Canderous replied, smirking at the irritation on the Jedi's face.

Katrina moved towards the desk. A number of datapads and other personal items were strewn across it. A computer terminal was built into it. Apparently Faris had been in the middle of something, because it was already on and appeared to be showing something along the lines of Faris' private journal.

"Yes. I do require something a little more substantial than our assumptions based on his décor and the raving he made before he killed himself," Bastila replied tersely, holding her head high against the Mandalorian.

She scanned through the entries. Most were vague and desultory, mentioning droid purchases and how he was feeling.

She felt a slight twinge of guilt, noting how often he had been feeling despair and hopelessness. The reasons for this were not mentioned, however, and she kept searching.

_I need something along the lines of 'Dear Diary: Used my prototype weapon against Revan and her companion near Telos today'._

"What have you found, Revan?" Juhani murmured, coming up behind her.

"His journals. He didn't seem to use them very often for anything personal. They read more like droid production and purchase receipts."

"Perhaps if you go back to any entries around the time the Sith were expected to pick up his droids." Katrina followed the Cathar's advice, coming to an entry nearly a day or so after Phineas had dated Faris' agreement to supply the droids.

_What have I done? _The entry's first sentence stuck out from the rest. She looked closer.

_But how could I have forseen it? How could I know that they would betray me in this way, the most painful of ways? I had thought that by giving them my droids, my life's work, that it would be a suitable offering, that they would become my allies. All too late I have seen that there are no friends among the Sith, that there are no alliances._

"It seems as though he supported the Sith out of fear for his family, and thought that supporting them would exclude him from their plans of conquest," Juhani murmured.

Katrina reached up, absent-mindedly tugging at her earlobe. She didn't want to keep reading, knowing how it would end; with another sin she didn't remember to apologize for.

_Their dark servants, the Jedi turned to evil- they came for her. He has seduced her, taken her away from her family, from her home. They've taken my Sonia, my daughter, turned her to their evil purposes. And I, like a fool, thought a trade of weapons would keep them away. It appears that once you have agreed to supply them, they devour everything you have._

Her throat went dry but she kept reading.

_They will come tomorrow; He will come and the woman; she will come too. They will come for the droids, though they have already taken everything I hold dear._

"The woman?" Juhani interrupted.

"He must be referring to you, Revan," Bastila said, nearly pushing them both aside in an effort to see the computer.

"But that doesn't make any sense...he thought you were a man when we arrived," Dustil said.

_No, you are not him. _She thought back to his words, trying to connect the dots.

"I don't think he was talking about me," Katrina murmured.

She was on the do-not-allow-entry list, but she was apparently not the primary target.

_I will not let them have this final satisfaction. I will turn my creations on them...they cannot take anymore than they have already stolen. And someday, I will have my revenge on him._

The entry ended with that sobering vow.

Katrina leaned over the desk.

"After agreeing to supply the Sith with weapons, Faris discovered that his daughter had been recruited into the Sith," Bastila summarized.

"I guess that's reason enough for an assassination order," Canderous murmured, his arms folded as though he were still not convinced.

"Then who's the man he's sworn to have his revenge on?" Dustil asked.

"The Sith must have been Malak and Revan. The man must be Malak," Bastila finished triumphantly.

"Therefore, his vengeance was not directed towards Revan," Juhani continued. "His journal seems to imply that it was Malak who recruited his daughter, and the primary orders of his droids seem to have been to destroy thieves and Malak, should either wander near his front door." Bastila folded her arms, raising an eyebrow at Canderous, who's only sign of concession was a slight nod of the head.

Katrina eyed the glass case of demolitions.

While some of them were prototype weapons, all were covered in dust. They weren't meant to be used, and she doubted even more so that the small man who had had his heart broken by the Sith could have mustered the courage to launch such a bold attack.

"So it wasn't him," she finally said, pushing herself up from the table. She moved towards the door, stepping over Faris' body as though it were a pile of bantha droppings.

She resisted the urge to kick it, despite the fact that she felt so much pity for him, a man who had spent his life in mourning for his lost daughter and finally thrown it all away when reminded of his failure.

She felt more pity for herself, that she had been so sure that he would be the culprit, that she might have ended everything in this sparse townhouse and gone back to Telos, and that she had been completely wrong.

"The dark side thrives on fear and feelings of doubt or guilt. It is the dark side that had taken hold of this man and driven him to take his own life. Things did not have to end this way," Juhani said, more so to Dustil than to anyone else.

"How else might they have ended? We would have killed him if he had been guilty of the attack," he answered.

"No, Padawan, we would not have killed him," Juhani replied severely.

_A Jedi does not end things with revenge. The Jedi idea of justice is not an eye for an eye, one destroyed life for another._

_I did not kill him,_Katrina reminded herself, despite the fact that she would have.

* * *

_  
This wasn't the way today was supposed to be. _

_She picked up various items lying around the cluttered room, trying furiously to put them into neat piles._

_Today was supposed to be a day of joy, a day of pride. Today was the day that she would tell them of her intentions to join the Jedi, to get off of this red industrial cloud amid their praise and applause._

_Instead she was frustrated and angry, and that wasn't how she was supposed to be feeling._

_"Revan..."A voice called out from the bedroom, high and whining._

Look at this place, s_he fumed to herself. _That a person should be dying in such a dirty house.

_"Revan." The voice was softer. She glanced up at her brother, standing in the doorway, watching her trying to straighten the room curiously, as though she were performing some kind of foreign dance._

_"She's calling you."_

_"I know she's calling me," she snapped. _

_She shouldn't have been dying. Not now, not when she had wanted to show her how she had risen out of what they were; out of this squalor to become a Jedi. _

A person should die with dignity, not in this slum. Not with a dirty house, with nothing around to show what she's accomplished.

_She had wanted to be the accomplishment. But there was no way she could tell her mother. Not today._

_"Malak's coming," she murmured brusquely to Phineas._

_"I told him he didn't need to," she added, "But he said he would anyways."_

_She was of two minds about this; she didn't want his awkward attempts at condolences- Malak was never very good with words. On the other hand, he was always at her side. It would seem wrong if he wasn't here._

_Her brother nodded again. He was poised in what she liked to call his 'politician look', arms folded behind him and his head high as though he wasn't a fifteen year old in a slum with a dying mother._

"_Go in there, Revan." She ignored him, continuing to clean. She could see him frowning at her out of the corner of her eyes._

_He was much taller than her, but then again she was small for her age. It had helped in convincing the Jedi that she was a very mature seven-year old rather than the ten years she actually was._

_Whether she had successfully deceived them or they had felt that she was too strong in the Force to leave behind she didn't know, but she couldn't let something so arbitrary as age keep her from becoming a Jedi, from getting out of here._

_"You'll regret it if you don't, if you leave without saying goodbye." She looked up at him. She hadn't told him of the Jedi, of her plans to leave. The hurt and anger from the fact was plain in his eyes, and through the Force._

_"Were you even going to tell me, Revan? Or were you and Malak just going to disappear?" His voice was hard, trembling._

_"This isn't the time, Phineas." Ten years old was an early age to realize such a thing, but she had never been ordinary in any sense of the word._

_She finally dropped the datapads she had been tidying, moving towards the bedroom, now her mother's sickroom. She grasped one of her brother's clenched fists as she passed._

_Well, she would make it up to him someday. When she returned as a great Jedi, she would make things right._

_"Revan..." This was not fair to her, but it was a greater injustice to her mother, whose once strong hands now reached towards her, shaking like withered and dry leaves._

_She forced herself to walk to her bedside, to try and recognize this wasted creature as her mother, Nura; a woman who had raised both her children on her own for years, a daughter who would become a Jedi and a son who was already becoming a well known voice in Anellian government._

_"It hurts," Nura repeated, grasping her hands as she watched tears appear on her face._

_The tears unsettled her, and she stood, stiff and uncomfortable. She didn't know how to respond to this- to this dying woman who wept and admitted pain when she had lived her life with a mother who had had no time for bedtime kisses and taught her children that strength, resilience, and defending what you believed in were the most important values._

_"I'm here, Mother," she finally said. That had always been her talent- knowing the right words even when she didn't understand them. _

_Nura smiled weakly, her face contorting with the effort._

_"You are always here. You have always done the right thing. You make me proud." She squeezed her mother's hand. 'Pride' often equated 'love' to her mother, and she was glad to have it._

_"I'll do so much more, Mother-"_

_"Oh Revan..." her mother whined in pain again, her voice breathy and high._

_She saw the thin form of Malak in the doorway, his pale skin even paler upon seeing her mother. She glanced up at him, reading the comforting reminder in his eyes, the guilty pleasure both had in their upcoming departure from this planet and to the Jedi._

_She swallowed her dreams of grandeur, her plans of power, wisdom, and respect. These things would come. And she would make her mother proud, even after the death that was dangling above this house, just waiting for an opportune moment._

_Right now, she would be Revan, the daughter that would stay by her mother's side._


	30. Chapter 30

_It's like being blind_, she decided.

Katrina had long been searching for some way to describe not knowing who you were, not having any memories that didn't belong to someone else.

Sitting in the cockpit, staring blankly out at the morning sunrise of Anelli, she had finally decided that blindness was an acceptable synonym. Blindness meant that, despite the fact that you knew the definition of the word mother, you would never know what one looked like or how to identify your own.

Her latest vision was unnerving. It wasn't images of Star Maps and masked, anonymous Sith activating them. It wasn't elaborations on past visions, on people she already knew.

Instead it was a vision complete with feelings, with the pain, anger, and disappointment the younger Revan had suffered, and love for people she didn't know existed.

Feeling sadness over the death of a mother you didn't remember almost equaled the awkwardness of an embrace from a stranger saying he was your brother.

"You must have enjoyed these sunrises when you lived here." She glanced behind her. Bastila entered the cockpit, her hair only slightly askew from sleeping but otherwise standing calm and regal.

Katrina turned back towards the sky, folding her arms in front of her uncomfortably. Bastila seated herself silently in the co-pilot's seat.

"I assume by your silence that you're still denying you ever lived here?" Katrina looked sideways at her, saying nothing.

Bastila snorted, folding her arms in much the same fashion as Katrina herself.

"The Council certainly knew what they were doing when they put us together, didn't they?"

"With you never talking and me not saying anything? Definitely." Another moment of silence passed, no less awkward than the first.

"I've been having...I suppose I wouldn't call them visions," The Jedi finally began. "They're mostly incomplete, and they mostly concern you."

Both glanced at each other. Katrina remembered the first time she and Bastila had discussed their bond, how Bastila had said that she certainly didn't like the idea of being tied to her so intimately.

She also remembered her own wry reply that she wasn't sure she wanted Bastila in her dreams either. It had always been slightly uncomfortable, slightly embarrassing, as if each had seen the other physically naked as well as emotionally.

"I know you have had the same visions, if not more in depth." She nodded. Bastila furrowed her brow.

"The first was of Malak,"the Jediadded. Katrina only nodded again. She could see Bastila's increasing frustration.

"He seemed to be counseling you against seeking out the Star Forge."

"For as much good as it did him. Or me." She leaned forward, resting her hands on either side of the chair.

She was a decent pilot, but without the use of the Force, she was nothing spectacular. Yet lately she always seemed to find herself in the pilot's seat, curling up into it as if it somehow contained a trace of the man who used to occupy it.

"And last night's vision was of Revan's... of _my_ mother," Katrina finally said, trying to gauge Bastila's reaction to the word.

The Jedi's face seemed frozen in an expression of feigned disinterest.

"She was dying," Bastila replied.

Katrina saw the tightness of her face, and she could swear she could almost see the Jedi's lips mouthing every word of the Code, reciting it over and over again.

"Bastila, I'm sorry," she said. The Jedi sighed.

"Please, don't concern yourself. I sometimes forget with my own struggles how hard yours must be in comparison. It was a moment of weakness for you, and I should not have been so insistent in that moment. My mother-"the Jedisighed again.

"My mother and I were on very good terms when she passed, and the thought gives me peace."

"_You are a servant of the light. I find that I often struggle against the dark side, but you make it look so easy. Is it truly not a struggle for you as well?"_

_She blushed, taking guilty pleasure in the compliment from her quasi-mentor._

_"I just do what I feel is right."_

Katrina smiled bitterly. _What a fool I was. _

"Why do you suppose these visions are coming to us now?" Katrina shrugged. It could be any number of reasons: The planet itself, being her homeworld, may have triggered them, or maybe the Force was acting through them for as of yet unknown reasons, or her memories were maybe finally starting to return to her.

_Or, _she thought, sitting up in her chair. _My connection with Phineas may be bringing them back too._

He had been the only slightly familiar thing in the vision, the only element that she could use to connect Revan's memories with her own to know that the vision had actually happened.

She thought of his stance in the vision: proud, with his head held high and his hands behind his back. She thought of his stance when she had first met him. She rose from the chair.

"I'll be back by the afternoon. We'll try our luck with the next suspect then."

"Where are you going?" Bastila called after her.

"To talk to my brother." The phrase slid out easily, as if she had been saying it her entire life. She chose not to turn around and see the slightly relieved smile she knew was on the Jedi's face.

The streets were already busy with the early-rising Anellians. A slight breeze blew against her as she walked. She tried to remember walking these streets before.

_When I walked them before, I doubt I appreciated them anyways,_ she thought, feeling the younger Revan's impatience to leave the planet all over again.

After making some inquiries, she found that all roads in Fornia seemed to lead back to the government offices. Apparently politics was such an important value here that the politicians themselves lived in apartments connected to their place of work.

The woman dealing with the usual crowds paid her no notice as she entered the building. She smirked, already liking the perks of a brother in power.

Katrina wandered the clean halls of the offices, getting murderous stares from groups waiting for meetings with the Committee and a few curious glances at her lightsaber dangling from her belt.

Phineas' apartments were located down long winding hallways reaching far back into the mountains that were connected to the offices. Two large black doors stood, waiting for her.

She hesitated a moment, surprised at how this was only one of very few doors she was actually going to enter invited, without having to use her security skills or her lightsaber to bash her way through it. Being welcome seemed foreign to her.

She finally reached a hand up and knocked twice.

Phineas opened the door instantly, almost as if he had been standing behind it waiting for visitors.

"Revan," he said, with a relieved smile. "I thought you were the leader of the Anellian Environmental Agency. We've been ignoring his case and I was beginning to fear a personal visit." She raised an eyebrow.

"Does that happen often?" He smirked.

"Often enough." He reached an arm out from behind his back, motioning for her to come inside.

Her brother's home was primarily form and function; everything was clean, sleek, bland, and uninteresting. She wondered if he used it for sleep and little else.

She turned to look at him; impeccably dressed in long robes of gray like the rest of the Committee, hazel eyes watching her expectantly.

"Is there something I can do for you?" She didn't answer for a moment, wandering around and picking up various belongings.

"How did you fare with tracking down the perpetrator of the attack?"

"We paid Faris a visit-"

"So I heard," he finished grimly. She glanced up at him.

Phineas' gaze was unforgiving, but neither was it condemning. She wondered how he felt, having a Sith Lord for a sister, a perpetrator of innumerable crimes herself.

"His droids attacked us." She could hear herself getting defensive already, and she hadn't even gotten to Faris' suicide yet. "And we had to fight our way in. When we found him, he thought we were Sith." Her brother nodded.

"Logical. The last time he saw you, you _were_ a Sith." She looked up, still holding the paperweight she had been tossing in her hand.

"So it was Malak and Revan who went to retrieve the droids he had promised?"

"Yes. You did many things personally in those days. I guess you thought no one else could do them better."

"Why didn't anyone stop him from supplying the droids in the first place?" Phineas sighed heavily.

"Here on Anelli, we have no laws condemning traitors- only those who break the law. We can't tell a man what to do with his own property. If he believed in the Sith cause and wanted to help them, that was his business. He broke no law by doing so."

"He didn't believe in it," Katrina answered. "He made the agreement solely to protect himself if the Sith did win the war. But he got a taste of what Sith business transactions are really like."

"What happened?"

"He had a daughter, Sonia-" Phineas shook his head, frowning.

"I remember her. She was beginning to have a promising career in the lower circles of government."

"Did she ever mention anything about the Sith?" He furrowed his brow.

"What does his daughter have to do with this? Did he perpetrate the attack because of her?"

Impatience and a longing for concise summaries was apparently a trait she shared with her brother.

"He wanted revenge on the man who recruited his daughter into the Sith, and that's why the droids turned against me and Malak." She heard herself say 'me' and realized that she had called herself Revan.

She watched Phineas try to contain a smile, and decided she would deal with it later.

"He went mad in his mourning for his daughter and his fear of the Sith. When we tried to reason with him, he activated a suicide program and killed himself with his own droids." Her voice became hard. She put the paperweight back on the table she had lifted it from with much more force than she had intended.

"And no, he wasn't the perpetrator."

She felt angry, and she was ashamed that she was angry, and she was still angrier that she was ashamed.

"You're frustrated," Phineas murmured. She could feel his sympathy, but she could also feel his superiority, how he was secretly congratulating himself. Whether it was because he had not fallen to the dark side as she had, or her inability to find the attacker she didn't know.

_If I had lived my life alone on Anelli, after my mother died and my sister and friend left me to become powerful Jedi and feared Sith Lords, I might take whatever victories I could find too._

She leaned up against a table near the wall, nodding.

"I'm sorry. Perhaps I should have looked further into it-" Katrina waved her hand, absolving him, despite the fact that she was fighting to keep her anger away from him, from blaming him for the fact that Faris was not the one who had attacked her, that she hadn't been able to impale him with her lightsaber and go home.

_Technically, I am home. _Conflicting feelings rose up and battled each other within the expanse of her chest. The Force told her Anelli was her home, or had been at one time. Her heart told her that home was parsecs and parsecs away, on Telos, with Carth.

"I sense you mourn for someone," Phineas said, somewhat tentatively. She looked up, his perception catching her off guard.

She was only used to fellow Jedi knowing what she was thinking. A brother's intuition was something new.

"I don't mourn. He's not dead." Phineas smirked.

"Oh, it's _that_ kind of someone." She somehow found the good grace not to blush. Her brother's politician pose softened for a moment, and he folded his arms in front of him, leaning against his door.

"I'm thinking it's too late for me to give older brother's approval, and I'm betting you wouldn't care if you had it or not in the first place." Katrina smiled.

Whether she remembered him or not, he definitely remembered her correctly.

"He wouldn't happen to be the Republic officer you mentioned having been injured in the attack with you, would he?" She nodded.

She could feel regret and guilt from him, and she instantly pitied him. She knew how those particular emotions ate away at you until you could blame yourself for all the wrongs of the universe.

_Never mind the fact that that's actually true for me and all the wrongs of the past few years._

"I have to admit I'm a little surprised."

"Why?"

"You never seemed interested in romance, Revan. If Malak had known that, it probably would have changed things." Katrina narrowed her eyes. 'Malak' and 'romance' in the same sentence was enough to make anyone do a double take.

"What are you talking about?" Phineas pushed himself back up to his normal straight posture.

"Malak wasn't only your closest friend, Revan. He was pathetically in love with you. It was one of the reasons he followed you around everywhere, obeying your every whim. But since you never showed any interest in that type of thing, he abandoned the idea."

Malak being in love with her. Malak wanting her to return that love. Malak wanting to do the same things she did with Carth-

She shuddered. Those were _definitely_ things she would think about later.

The thought of Malak, of her past, reminded her of the reason she had come here in the first place.

"I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?" Phineas shook his head.

"I've been having these...visions." Katrina began, tracing the lines in her palm. "I'm not sure if they're my memories coming back, or if coming here and meeting you is triggering them." He smiled faintly.

"I may not have become a Jedi, but I understand the Force. I've been thinking a lot about the days before you left too."

"I saw our mother." She watched his slightly whimsical face turn into a frown. "I saw her dying."

"Not the memory I would have chosen."

_Today was supposed to be a day of joy, a day of pride. Today was the day that she would tell them of her intentions to join the Jedi, to get off of this red industrial cloud amid their praise and applause._

"I was so angry." She could hear herself referring to Revan as Katrina, Katrina as Revan, both of them being who she was. "Even then, apparently, I was always angry."

"You had every right to be, Revan," Phineas interrupted. "You wanted Mother's pride, and she couldn't give it to you."

"You were angry too," she answered evenly, glancing up at him.

"Yes, I was," he replied calmly. "You were leaving me, Malak was leaving, Mother was dying. I wanted her pride too. I wanted yours above all, but you would be gone." Her brother sighed.

"I'd like to think I'm over such feelings now."

_The tears unsettled her, and she stood, stiff and uncomfortable. She didn't know how to respond to this- to this dying woman who wept and admitted pain when she had lived her life with a mother who had had no time for bedtime kisses and taught her children that strength, resilience, and defending what you believed in were the most important values._

"What was she like?" Phineas shifted his feet as though uncomfortable with the question.

"You must have felt how hard it was for us to see her like that. She was never weak. She was like you. She worked her entire life without complaining, despite the fact that she was a single mother trying to support both of us."

"Where was our father?" Her brother's face tightened.

"He died." The anger flowed through him freely, so overwhelming for a moment that Katrina almost needed to catch her breath.

"How?"

"When I was about five, he got it in his head that he would leave for a cause he believed in, some battle somewhere against someone; I never did find out. He left all of us with his bravado and his arrogance and got himself killed."

_Dustil would like him_, she thought to herself.

"Anyways," he finally continued, straightening up. "You never met him. You were only a baby."

She wracked her brain for the memory of a father, of some type of strong male figure to look up to. She found none, only a slightly lingering memory of Malak at the door of her mother's sickroom.

"If you don't mind, can you save any other memories you might have until later?" Her brother's voice was strained.

She had awakened something that had probably been lying dormant in his mind for years, a blinding rage that she could feel through the Force, courting Phineas to give into it.

Katrina was silent, looking away politely as if his anger was some kind of hideous birth defect she didn't want to stare at.

"What do you intend on doing now?" he finally said. She turned back to him, taking in his average face, countered with a kind of self-assured glow that said there was nothing average about him.

"We'll probably head to Ruhol next. He'll be the easiest to find and maybe more cooperative." Phineas nodded.

"Be careful around him. He's a little sneaky and good with words." She smirked, gripping the hilt of her lightsaber.

"I don't think he'll be a problem." Her brother shook his head ruefully, smiling back at her. He moved to hold the door open for her exit.

"Thank you, Phineas." His name seemed to become easier to say with every passing day.

Phineas reached out a hand to her. He gripped her arm, and she felt instantly how right a feeling of camaraderie was with him, how this man being her brother seemed to be part of the natural order of the universe.

It was comforting to know that she had a place, that she wasn't the cardboard cut-out the Council had created. She gripped his arm back.

"You're welcome, Revan."


	31. Chapter 31

There was an eerily familiar sight outside of the _Ebon Hawk_ as she reached it, and she momentarily reached for her weapon in panic. A red lightsaber and a blue one were locked in heated battle.

As Katrina came closer to the ship however, she could see that both belonged to Dustil and Juhani.

She watched as Dustil bared his teeth with every strike he made. There was a lull in their duel, and Juhani seemed to become sluggish. Sweat dripped off both the foreheads of Master and Padawan, and Katrina wondered how long they had been at it. Dustil thrust forward.

His eyes were wide and almost bloodshot, like some kind of angry Rodian. She rushed to intercept, her lightsaber ready to deflect him.

Juhani seemed to suddenly awaken from her reverie and easily pushed him to the side.

Dustil stumbled and stopped, wiping sweat off his brow.

"What was that for?" he demanded, turning his angry face to Katrina.

She suddenly realized, from the calm stance of Juhani, that she had completely misconstrued the situation. Dustil hadn't been attacking Juhani; she had walked in on a teaching exercise.

"Sorry,"Katrina said quietly, turning to Juhani. "I thought-"

"You thought what? That I was trying to kill her?" Dustil snapped. She looked him up and down; with his lightsaber still clenched firmly in his hand, his Padawan robes darkened from sweat.

_Wouldn't be the first time, s_he thought, remembering Korriban.

"The point of our exercise, Dustil, was to show you plainly how the teachings of the Sith are flawed, and one of them is to assume the first appearance of things is the correct one," the Cathar interrupted.

"Like the way she assumed I was attacking you unprovoked?" he snapped again.

"You attacked because you noticed a weakness. You did not wonder why the weakness occurred, or why we were fighting at all," Juhani said to him. Dustil opened his mouth to reply, but it seemed that Juhani's effortless chain of reasoning drawn from the Jedi teachings was unable to draw his anger. He nodded breathlessly.

"But you defeated me easily," he said, without the frustration that was on his face. From the looks of him, he was probably too exhausted to keep up his tirade.

"Exactly, Padawan. Because you were quick and took the first opportunity, the easiest path, you were defeated. A Jedi only uses his weapon in defense of himself or others. When you turn to the aggressor in a situation, seeking out the best way to inflict pain on another, the dark side claims you." The Cathar turned towards Katrina.

"And Revan made an honest mistake. You will find that the Jedi are often feared as much as the Sith, Dustil, for the very reason that most do not understand either group." The younger Onasi stared at Katrina expectantly.

She frowned. She would have to say it, despite the fact that she didn't mean it and he would know.

"I'm sorry, Dustil." He stared harder.

_Nope, didn't buy it._

"Aside from that, your lightsaber appears to be set incorrectly," Juhani added, motioning towards Dustil's now sputtering lightsaber. He glanced at it, shaking it a few times. It seemed to right itself for a moment, and finally completely died out. Dustil sighed heavily.

"Do not expect the path of the Jedi to be easy, Dustil," Juhani said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It is always easier to give into frustration, anger, and self-righteousness. But these things lead to the dark side, to failure, death, and destruction. Just as I was able to defeat you in this exercise, so would another Jedi have been able to defeat you no matter how angry or powerful in the Force you might have been." The Cathar smiled at Katrina and walked towards the gangplank.

She was left, quite literally, out in the breeze with Dustil and his anger.

It was far too uncomfortable andKatrina decided to make a quick exit, starting to follow in the direction Juhani had gone.

"Of all people in the universe, you'd think _you_ might cut me a break or two," he called out darkly.Katrina clenched her fists, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" _Despite the fact that I know exactly what he means._

"Because I've definitely been ignoring a hell of a lot of things for you. And if you can't do the same for me, there's absolutely no way this 'thing' between you and my father can work with me having some kind of relationship with him at the same time." Her fists softened, and she turned around.

The pale brown of the Jedi robes he wore didn't make her any less afraid of him. He was maybe more difficult to face because he was no longer the enemy, no longer part of the other side, the side she was supposed to despise.

"You're going to have to realize then that there is no 'thing' between Carth and I," she spat in much the same disgusting manner he had.

"Well," Dustil answered harshly. "Excuse me for not unconditionally accepting the fact that my father is sleeping with not only a woman other than my mother, but a woman that used to be the Dark Lord Revan."

She opened her mouth to utter her standard reply, that she wasn't Revan. But she realized that she had no defense, no possible justification against his other charge.

Katrina stood, feeling his cold, unforgiving gaze and knowing she had nothing to counter it with.

"I love him. And he loves me. And you," she added, almost as an afterthought. Dustil stared at his feet, tinkering with his lightsaber as if she had said something inappropriate.

"Do you think that makes trying not to hate you any easier?"

She stared back at him.

_I don't need you to like me._

She remembered sneering the words to him as if he was one of the punk Sith students from Korriban rather than Carth Onasi's son. Snarling and snapping like an animal right before she had watched her hands rise and-

_I do want him to like me. At the very least, forgive me._

But hatred wasn't something she could coax out of him, something she could cajole him into giving up. Hatred had to be battled, defeated, and finally discarded.

"I-"  
"Look-"

Dustil ran a hand through his hair, making it all stand up on end and look even more unkempt.

"So you have a brother." She raised an eyebrow.

"How did you-"

"Master Juhani."

"I wasn't just leaving you out of the loop, Dustil," Katrina added. "I didn't tell anyone else either." Dustil nodded.

"I know, I'm not angry. Might have helped things if you had told the rest of us, but I understand why you didn't." She stood silent, unaccustomed to a conversation with Dustil Onasi that ended somewhat civilly.

"Have you always had such an unreliable lightsaber?" Katrina said, motioning to his weapon. He scoffed, smiling ruefully.

"I never could set the damn crystal correctly. I always get too impatient and think it's good enough when it's not perfectly aligned, and then this is the result."

"I used to be like that with school projects too-" He stopped abruptly, narrowing his eyes, as if he had just remembered that he was talking to the woman who was responsible for said school now being in ruins.

There was probably only so much leeway she could get with Dustil in one day.

_Time to cut my losses,_ Katrina thought, turning and heading onto the ship. Dustil followed her wordlessly.

Canderous glanced up momentarily upon their entrance, and then went back to cleaning his blaster. Bastila stood near him, irritatedly handing tools to the Mandalorian.

"The scope, not the laser cutter," he murmured derisively. The Jedi frowned.

"In case you had not noticed, Canderous, I am a Jedi. A Jedi who usually has no need for a repeating blaster and thus no prior experience at modifying one."The Mandalorianraised an eyebrow, shaking his head.

"I'll remember to knock the weapon out of the hands of the next Sith I see then, since apparently they're helpless without it." Bastila opened her mouth to reply.

"Or maybe they'll lose it themselves." The Jedi quickly shut her mouth again, looking around furtively. Katrina giggled.

"Like you did on the _Endar Spire_?" she offered towardsBastila.The Jedieyed her murderously as Canderous snorted.

"So what's the plan, chief?" Mission said, leaning back against the table. Sometimes the Twi'lek looked so impishly young that it was hard to believe she was the same Twi'lek who had wandered through the sewers of Taris, a whirling improbability of vibroblades against Gamorreans.

"We'll pay Ruhol a visit." Mission pushed herself up.

"Count me and Big Z in. I've had enough of this hunk of junk."

"You mean you've had enough of repairing it," Zaalbar added. Mission smirked.

"Hey, I didn't see you exactly throwing your big hairy heart and soul into it either."

"Canderous?" The Mandalorian shook his head.

"Not this time, Revan. This blaster needs some work. We can't all have lightsabers," he added, eying Bastila. "Despite the fact that we may lose them as well."

"I'll join you," Bastila said, tossing the tools she was holding petulantly into the Mandalorian's lap.

Ruhol's home was situated much the same as Faris' had been; except for a marked absence of battle droids and a much gaudier entrance. Flags boasting what might have been his family crest hung everywhere, and there was no sign of the slight dilapidation Faris' home had been falling into.

"Ruhol has actively sought a role in Anellian government, but has never been elected because of his tendency to switch positions on a credit to appease the people," Katrina read from her datapad.

"Something I gather the people are not fond of," Bastila murmured.

"In his spare time he acts as the master of ceremonies for constant political soirees, hoping to gain some advocates. His official position on the Sith varies with popular opinion, but he had direct contact with Revan and Malak at one of his parties. Revan openly discredited and criticized him in front of all his guests, something he has been said to never forgive her for."

"Just 'cause you showed him up? That seems like a stupid reason to kill someone," Mission said, wrinkling up her nose.

"Perhaps it is a grave insult among the people of this planet to shame someone in government," Zaalbar added. "Among my people it is traitorous to dishonor the chief."

"I'm betting I was none too subtle or polite about it either," Katrina finished, going over the datapad once more to make sure there was nothing else.

She reached out to ring the bell. Its toll was like that of a small orchestra; complete and utter overcompensation.

A steward greeted them.

"Good afternoon, illustrious Jedi." His flow of speech broke for an instant as he eyed the Twi'lek and the Wookie behind them. "And your...companions. I welcome you to the house of Ruhol."

"We seek an audience with your Master. We are Jedi investigating an attack on a Republic officer and we believe he may have some information that will help us." The steward nodded amicably.

"I see. And are you newcomers to the planet? Or are you familiar with the Master?" Katrina raised an eyebrow.

Evidently, there was no getting in to see this fellow if you had no connections.

"We were referred to Ruhol through members of the Committee."

"Really? Which ones?"

She hesitated. She didn't want to bring her brother into the middle of this, to negate the fact that he was risking his entire career to help her find her attacker by simply flashing his name around.

"That certainly isn't any of your business," Bastila finally said haughtily. "It would be a definite waste of our time should Ruhol lose our support because of a servant's lack of cooperation."

The steward almost trembled.

"My most humble apologies, Master Jedi. I am sure Master Ruhol can spare as much time as you need for your noble mission. Please, follow me." He turned down the hallway behind him, his head high as if it was his home and not his workplace.

"So this Ruhol guy's important, huh?" Mission whispered. Bastila put a finger to her lips with a hiss.

"He's rich and he may have tried to kill Revan. That makes him a little important," Zaalbar growled, amused. Mission turned to smirk at him.

"Geeze Zaalbar, I'd expect that kind of sarcasm from Canderous. I think he's rubbing off on you." The Twi'lek gazed about in wonder at the surroundings of Ruhol's home, even gaudier than the exterior if it was possible.

"I just meant that if what you said about him failing in the government was true and all...well, he's gotta do_ something_ to have the credits to afford all this, right?" Katrina ran a hand over the fine furnishings as she passed them, noting the expensive prints on the wall, the random statues of valuable ores all around them.

"I'm betting he's got a little something on the side, you know? Maybe he's with the Exchange or something."

Ruhol seemed to have all the latest gadgetry and décor around his home. Unless he was old money, she wouldn't be surprised if Mission was right.

_Very old money_, she thought to herself, eying a chandelier made entirely out of various lightsaber crystals.

The steward opened the doors, rushing inside. Not thirty seconds later, he opened them again, much more calmly.

"Master Ruhol would be happy to see you now."

Ruhol himself stood with his back to them, looking out the large window at the back of his office. He was short and portly, mostly balding. He turned with a smirk on his face that Katrina was sure he thought a welcoming smile looked like.

"Master Jedi, I am delighted to make your acquaintance." He rushed forward, extending a hand.

"Um...As are we, Ruhol,"Katrina murmured, trying to wrench her hand free from his iron and sweaty-fisted grip.

"We are investigating an attack and we thought you, having mingled so much in the political world, might have some information for us."

Ruholblushed like a schoolgirl.

"Ah yes, if there is anyone who's worth knowing in Anelli's political circles, my dear, you can be sure that I know all there is to know about them."

"But please," he added, motioning towards the chairs in front of him. "Sit down and make yourselves comfortable."

He eyed Mission and Zaalbar uncomfortably, as if he wasn't quite sure to offer them chairs or order them to get him a glass of wine.

"Nice place you got here," Mission commented, leaning up against the wall with her arms folded.

"Yes...well..." he sputtered.

"You seem to be very well off," Katrina continued quickly. "We know of your obvious reputation in the governing body of Anelli, but do you make your living in another service as well?" Ruhol shook his head.

"I live to serve the people of Anelli, my dear lady."

The words dripped out of his mouth, saccharine and sickly sweet.

Mission harrumphed behind her as if to show everyone how right her instincts had been.

"I am quite interested to know who referred you to me,"Ruhol said, leaning forward eagerly.

Katrina exchanged a glance with Bastila and leaned forward as well.

"We have been meeting with the whole of the Committee for a few days now. They have allowed us full attention over any other matters," she murmured, almost seductively. Ruhol's small gray eyes danced merrily as he rubbed his hands together in satisfaction.

"Yes, the Committee does ask for my opinion quite often. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if-"

"Do you often meet with them?"

Ruhol paused a moment, looking slightly irritated that he had been stopped in the middle of his speech about himself. Finally he smiled coolly.

She wondered if, for a moment, he had recognized something of the impetuous Sith Lord who had defied him among his desired peers.

"As often as I am able. I hold meetings, celebrations, parties, and gatherings for the most influential here in my home. I enjoy hosting these events immensely, and I have heard that my colleagues enjoy them as well."

"Do you invite the Sith to your parties too?" Mission said. Ruhol glanced irritatedly at her.

"Whoever is playing a current role in Anellian politics has probably been in my home at one point or another." This he answered to Katrina, as if she had asked the question instead of the Twi'lek.

"Since the attack was against a Republic officer, "Bastila added, "We have been looking at members of the Sith as possible suspects as well. Have you had many dealings with them?"

Ruhol plastered a cheap smile on his face.

"Not many. The Sith are not known for their congenial and friendly merry-making."

"We had heard that you once hosted a party at which the dark lord Revan and Malak were in attendance," Katrina continued. His beady eyes narrowed, and he stared hard at her. She stared back.

"Both Revan and Malak are dead- I fail to see why they are suspects in your attack."

"Only Malak is dead," she replied calmly.

"I'm afraid you're quite wrong, my dear," he said, a harsh laugh under his breath. "I'm absolutely sure that Revan is no longer alive."

She heard him say 'absolutely sure'. She glanced at her scaly arm, still patches of pink, red, and white, still healing.

"Oh you are, huh?" Mission said, standing up with a hand on her hip. "You got a body or something?"

She heard 'body'. She saw Carth, burned and broken having fought to save her.

"I ask that you please contain your slaves-" Ruhol snapped.

"We are not slaves," Zaalbar growled, so threateningly that Ruhol, who obviously couldn't understand Shyriiwook, physically cowered.

"Indeed, Ruhol," Bastila said harshly. "How are you so certain that Revan is dead?"

"You didn't like her, did you, Ruhol?" Katrina said, standing and leaning over the desk. "She made you look like the pathetic little attention grubbing worm that you are; in front of everyone you had been kissing up to your entire life." She heard her voice lower to a raspy tenor.

Ruhol stared hard at her, the rage of realization beginning to turn his face slightly blue like an angry Selkath.

"If this is how the Jedi act when holding an impartial investigation, I might like to see what they do when someone is truly guilty. Guardians of peace in the universe indeed."

Bastila hesitated, glancing sideways at Katrina.

Katrina knew no such limitations. She didn't believe in them anyways.

"You wanted her dead. Since you could not beat her with words, with your miniscule intellect and sad little attempts at charm, you decided that you would beat her like the Neanderthal you are: with a big explosion."

She said 'big explosion' and she relived it, every shade of gold and flame erupting before her eyes. Her hands tightened on either side of the desk.

Ruhol's face might have been a deep shade of purple under the right light. Right now it was a flaming red.

He laughed, hard little puffs of air in her face.

"If I may say so, Master Jedi, you do a remarkable impression of that inhuman shrew."

"Revan doesn't do impressions," Mission snapped. Katrina heard Bastila groan quietly beside her.

She didn't care. She wanted him to know. She wanted to see the fear curl up in his eyes, to watch his angry and portly form shrink to a sad, fat, lonely little man. She wanted to then pull out her lightsaber and slice him from end to end.

But instead of the rage she expected, Ruhol's thin mouth curved into a cruel smile. He laughed again.

"Under the mask, you really are nothing but a woman after all. So you hid yourself and returned to usurp him. How expected. And impersonating a Jedi...a nice touch, to be sure."

His hands moved towards the desk, and Katrina extended her lightsaber. The sight of it made him pull back carefully, a datapad now gripped in one hand and a blaster in the other.

"I should have known the moment you entered you were not who you said you were. No Jedi would associate with such scum as a Wookiee slave and a Twi'lek dancer." Zaalbar roared something unintelligible.

"My thoughts exactly," Mission hissed, reaching for her vibroblade.

"It's a pity I didn't kill you as well as embarrass you,"Katrina added, her grip tightening around her lightsaber, relishing its sleek metallic lines.

"You spoke of someone else, someone Revan was trying to usurp," Bastila said desperately, stepping in front of all of them. "What are you talking about?"

Bastila's words brought her out of her reverie, andKatrina too eyed Ruhol curiously instead of with a desire to kill.

"Drew you in with lies, eh? Impressed you with power she no longer possesses? Oh no, my friend, Revan is no longer the Dark Lord." He seemed almost gleeful. "I should have known under that mask that you were no better than any of the politicians you insulted so gravely at that party. You're just as willing to lie and manipulate to draw others to your cause, aren't you?"

"What are you talking about?" she snapped, not sure how long she could control herself. Her fingers itched to make a swing, to crackle with dark energy.

"I'm one step ahead of you Revan,"Ruhol giggled. "This datapad will destroy the government on Anelli. Cripple it to its very foundation. Who's the master politician now, eh? Am I still the insignificant worm you found me to be so long ago?"

"If you think a datapad will cripple the planet, then yes." His mouth curled up into an indignant snarl, and she didn't know if it was because she had insulted him again or because she doubted his plan.

"How little you comprehend. I haven't been crawling up the political ladder for my health, you know. I've amassed the secrets and intrigues of every member on that Committee, and every wealthy or influential person involved. What I hold in my hand is delicious blackmail, Revan, something you and your strong-arm Sith could not possibly grasp the sublimity of."

"You do know what that means, don't you?" he added, after receiving no reaction.

She heard 'Committee'. She thought of the only voice that had spoken to her, calm, collected, and self-assured. She heard 'blackmail'. She thought of her gentle, well-spoken brother, living a life alone and then having everything he had accomplished ruined by this vindictive little man.

"That means absolutely nothing, considering that you are holding it in your hand, and I am holding a lightsaber in mine." Katrina launched herself over the desk, knocking him down with a slight flick of her wrist.

Ruhol began firing wild shots from his repeating blaster. He was not incredibly accurate, but the blaster was incredibly powerful. Katrina paused to deflect them.

It was easy to overtake him. She drew the blaster out of his hand. He stood for a moment, completely out of options, looking exactly the way she had wanted him to look.

She fought the urge to salivate as she stepped forward menacingly for the kill.

"Revan!" Bastila's voice was a hazy echo.

"Revan, don't! REVAN!" She reached her arm back, ready to throw her weapon. Finish him off with one satisfying and precise move.

"Revan, we need that datapad!"

The mention of something other than her name, than her past, made her stumble as she threw her weapon, and it grazed the side of Ruhol's hand.

Ruhol screamed out, high pitched and piercing, and dropped the datapad.

He held his burned fingers, looking helplessly at her as if she were a bully in the schoolyard; taunting the fat kid. She thought for a moment he might cry; foiled by Revan again.

Instead, he whirled towards Mission, firing his blaster as if all hell had broken loose.


	32. Chapter 32

Mission stood frozen for an instant, like a tach before the slaughter. Street smart instincts set in, and Katrina watched her dive behind the desk.

Though not before taking a blaster shot squarely between the shoulder blades.

The Twi'lek cried out, and Katrina heard the clatter of her vibroblades falling to the floor. She turned back towards Ruhol.

Seeing his closest friend threatened, Zaalbar had reacted quickly.

Ruhol lay face down, Bacca's ceremonial blade sticking up out of his back. Zaalbar pulled it out, not making the slightest twitch at the squishing noise it made sliding out of muscle and flesh.

All of them rushed to Mission's side.

"Mission? Are you all right?" The Twi'lek stared up with glassy eyes, a croaking noise her only answer.

Katrina and Bastila reached out for her, letting the Force do what any amount of medpacs probably could not.

She felt overwhelmed; to go from blinding rage and darkness to the healing power of the light side within a matter of seconds was so disorienting that she felt dizzy.

The Twi'lek's eyes closed, lost in the blissful healing sleep of the Jedi. Zaalbar picked her up gently.

"He was not the attacker either," Bastila said curtly, almost admonishing Katrina for reacting so violently.

Katrina returned the Jedi's hard, unforgiving gaze.

_So you hid yourself and returned to usurp him. How expected. And impersonating a Jedi...a nice touch, to be sure._

Ruhol's words now came back to her in a flood of memory that she had resisted when he was actually speaking them.

He had thought her dead, but his idea of her death had been on her flagship, when Malak had fired on her. He still thought her a Sith; he couldn't have been her attacker. Why would a Sith Lord be traveling with the Republic's hero?

She rose from her kneeling position, walking over to where Ruhol's body and the datapad lay in the corner, a few meters away from each other.

The datapad's screen flickered in its death throes. Her agitated attack had lacked precision, and she had damaged it as well as Ruhol's grip in the process. She quickly downloaded all the information she could and tossed the lifeless datapad back towards Ruhol's body.

The information she had been able to get was spotty and incomplete. Errors were everywhere, and most files were incomplete or fragmented. It was still a frighteningly lengthy list of blackmail on most of Anelli's influential citizens. She scanned the names that had been recorded along with their files. Her brother's wasn't there.

Katrina released a sigh of relief.

"Again we see that there is more at work here than mere revenge tactics," Bastila murmured, walking over to her side. "Ruhol spoke of another, someone you were trying to usurp."

"He couldn't have meant Malak. He knew Malak was dead," Katrina replied, rubbing her neck thoughtfully.

"And so we must assume that there is someone else, another Sith that has apparently risen."

She thought back to Faris, to his ramblings about how she wasn't 'him', how 'he' had recruited his daughter to the dark side.

"Do you suppose Faris wasn't talking about Malak either?" Bastila tilted her head.

"It is quite possible. Unfortunately, we'll never be able to confirm that the man who hurt him and the man Ruhol referred to are the same one."

It wasn't Malak. It was someone else. An intrepid Sith, who had risen in the shadows and was now longing to emerge from them and become the new face of terror in the galaxy.

Death was somehow at both ends of every Sith's life span. Her death seemed to have been at the beginning of this one's.

She rubbed her eyes. _Attempted death, at any rate._

"Look at that datapad. Ruhol claimed to have the secrets of every powerful Anellian on the planet. Perhaps there is a clue as to the identity of this Sith," Bastila said, gesturing to the datapad.

Katrinaobediently skimmed through it. Most of Ruhol's blackmail had involved embezzlement, torrid love affairs, the assassinations of those who had threatened to expose said crimes and the like.

_Polygamy, counterfeit credits, black market goods, illegal weapons sales to the Sith..._

_Wait._

"It looks like Ruhol somehow got his hands on documents implying the sale of illegal weapons to a Sith." Bastila leaned over her shoulder.

"Prototype demolitions ready whenever convenient at agreed price of fifty-thousand credits," Katrina read. "Suggest alternate meeting place; someone may be monitoring systems here at AMC."

"AMC?" Bastila murmured.

"Anellian Mining Corporation." Things seemed to be coming to her as fragmented as the files she was looking at- little bits and pieces that were seemingly useless until moments like this.

"Is there a name with this file?" It had been one of the damaged ones; Katrina could find no source for the fragmented information.

"Wasn't one of the names on our list an officer for the Corporation?"

"Haytham," Katrina answered. She glanced back down at the file.

"The response was, 'Understood. Fifty-thousand as promised will be sent when my Lord comes."

"Fancies himself a Lord already," the Jedi muttered.

Ruhol's evidence of a rising Sith Lord was in the form of the exchanged messages and a short recording. Katrina played it.

A man stood nervously in what appeared to be some type of cell. Katrina recognized the look on his face all too well as he gazed off to the side, his jaw trembling as if he were stammering. He mouthed words that only came out as garbled static, holding his hands up in either acquiescence or defeat.

He didn't have to wait long. Two figures emerged from the direction of his unease. Both were cloaked in the dark robes of the Sith, masks and all. They stood on either side of him, one with his hands behind his back, the other pacing like an animal with its prey in a tree.

When they struck, it was so swift and sudden that even Katrina jumped, despite the fact that it was only a recording. The man's head sliced cleanly from his body and rolled to the ground, off-camera.

She was thankful for a moment that the audio had been damaged, that she didn't have to listen to the shrieks of his quick and merciless death.

She shoved the datapad forcefully into her pack.

"A master and an apprentice?" Bastila finally said.

"If we're lucky," Katrina replied, turning towards the exit.

She ground her teeth together, knowing that no matter how hard she tried, neither her upper or her lower jaw would ever be strong enough to crush the other.

Zaalbar followed her, quietly carrying Mission. Bastila stood for a moment with her arms folded, staring at the body of Ruhol crumpled in the corner.

"And if we are not?" she called out to Katrina.

"Then they're only followers of something much bigger."

* * *

_"Well?" There was chorus of murmurs from the Committee at her daring, at her audacious behavior. _

_But she wouldn't cower before them, holding her hat meekly in her hands and shuffling her feet while waiting for their word._

_She was Revan, a Jedi; she cowered before no one._

_"The Committee has reviewed your request, Jedi Revan." The voice that spoke was halting and hesitant. She narrowed her eyes._

_The answer was clear._

_"And?" she challenged the darkness. She knew exactly which dark form to glare at. He leaned forward slightly, folding his hands in front of him. His imperturbability only made her angrier._

_"Your request has been denied. The Committee's vote is unanimous."_

_The conceding words wouldn't come, although she knew what she was supposed to say. Maybe if it hadn't been her brother telling her so flatly that there was absolutely no chance that they would support her- that _he _would support her. _

_She bowed solemnly, hearing only the slight swishing noise of her robes trailing after her as she exited the chambers. _

_"Perhaps the Council was right," Malak began after a moment's hesitation. "Maybe we are rushing into a war that doesn't need to be fought-"_

_She sighed heavily. Sometimes she wanted to rip Malak's doubting and spineless jaws off._

_"If you believe that, then why are you following me?"_

_"You know I believe in the cause as much as you do," he replied defensively. "Being back here is just reminding me of a few things."_

_She had no time to reflect on what it meant to be back on Anelli. She felt a strange affinity and revulsion at the sight of its red peaks and crimson plains. _

_She couldn't think of those things right now. What was important was the impending war against the Mandalorians, of making sure it was a victory for the Republic._

_She heard a door open behind her._

_"How can you call yourself my brother?" _

_She turned around to face him, Phineas, with a slight frown on his face and his hands, as always, calmly clasped behind him._

_"Welcome back to Anelli, Revan. Though I had hoped you might have told me you were coming instead of showing up in front of the Committee."_

_Neither did she have any time to reflect on her brother, whom had been the only thing from the planet that had crossed her mind during her years of Jedi training. But there was no emotion; there was no passion in the Jedi Order._

_Thus her inability to deal with the fact that she was both glad to see him and incredibly hurt that the first words he would say to her were 'Your request has been denied'. _

_"If I had known you'd turned into a weak-minded political puppet, I wouldn't have come at all."_

"_What have the Jedi done to you, Revan? You were never this emotional."_

_"You know the Republic needs all the help it can get." He was taller; the stoic look he had carried in childhood had matured into a constant aura of wisdom_

_"If the Republic needed help, they should have come to us themselves. As it is, the Committee isn't entirely convinced that this is a war they should get involved in." His voice however: firm, stubborn, and unafraid of her, was just as she remembered it._

_"Do you really think I would be wasting your time with this if I didn't think it was worthwhile?" He raised an eyebrow._

_"Revan, you would waste your time on droids lobbying for citizenship if you were convinced that they were right." He extended a hand towards Malak._

_"Malak. Still at Revan's side I see...It's good to know some things never change." Malak reached an awkward hand out to shake Phineas'._

_"You're still good at changing the subject." _

_"You're still good at dragging us back to it," he replied without missing a beat. _

_She missed him. She realized it, trying desperately to ignore it. _

_"You're on the Committee, just like you always said you would be." Phineas smiled softly._

_"I'm no Jedi, I admit, but I've done well." Malak slunk off towards the corner of the room, maintaining a respectful distance. _

_"You look well, Revan. I guess the Jedi don't starve or beat you or anything like that?" She smirked._

_"It's not exactly boot camp or anything like that." She reached out to brush a few pieces of dust off his shoulder._

_"You do realize what you're getting yourself into, don't you?" he murmured, staring at her hand as it brushed his shoulder. She paused, gripping it for a moment._

_"We can't sit idly by and let the Mandalorians take over the galaxy." Her voice was terribly grim whenever she spoke of the war. But she had seen too much of what the Mandalorians did to be nonchalant about it. Decimating entire planets, women, children, without any remorse..._

_It made her angry. _

_"Mandalore will pay for his crimes, whether Anelli helps me or not."_

_"And you know that we can't," he answered shortly._

_What good was being the most powerful Jedi in the universe if she couldn't convince a political body on her homeworld, to which her brother belonged, to help her cause?_

_She turned away from him, folding her arms petulantly in front of her._

_"Then we don't have anything more to say to each other, Phineas." He sighed heavily._

_"You're just like him, Revan, do you know that?" His voice was hard, that grating quality in it that took over whenever he spoke of the father only he had known._

_"I've missed you...you've finally returned after all these years, and now you're going to go off and get yourself killed-"_

_How could he believe that she would fall, that she was not every inch as powerful as she appeared? How could he not believe in her?_

_"I am a Jedi, Phineas," she replied coldly. "No mere Mandalorian is any threat to me."_

_"Malak," her brother called out, laughing nervously. "Tell me you don't agree with this. She's leading you into another rancor den-"_

_"You are short-sighted, Phineas," Malak replied tersely. "You know nothing of the power of the Force."_

_His efforts were never impressive, but she cast a look of approval in his direction. He believed in her. He would follow her to the end._

_"Revan-" her brother finally sputtered. It was strange to see him at a loss for words, unable to reply. His strength had always been in knowing what to say._

_She couldn't help but feel victorious that she had surpassed him in that as well._

_"Maybe you'll feel better about it when I return as the victor rather than another proposition to the Committee."_

_Her brother stared at her. She could feel anger twisting around in his guts. _

_There would be no end._

_"There is no death, Phineas," she said with a knowing smile, "There is only the Force."_


	33. Chapter 33

"Revan, are you absolutely sure about this?" Phineas finally said, gazing up at her.

_No end, perhaps, but certainly a number of beginnings._

He looked the same as he had in her vision; utterly at a loss for words.

She had gone immediately to him; the only person she could trust and the only person who might know something of a Sith hot spot on Anelli.

"You can watch the recording again, if you'd like,"Katrina replied curtly, holding the datapad out towards him. He waved it away as if it were some kind of disgusting entrail she expected him to eat.

The anger she had felt from him in the vision was here in the present as well, but she didn't begrudge him that. She too was enraged that a Sith Lord had risen right under her nose.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything, Revan. I'm astonished that Ruhol had this information."

"So you know nothing of a rising Sith Lord on Anelli?" He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully.

"Do you think this Sith might be responsible for your attack?"

It was the logical conclusion: Sith equaled evil, evil equaled hurting Carth.

"I don't know. It would make things a lot easier." Phineas smiled faintly.

"'Easy' was never a word in our vocabularies."

Katrina ran a finger over the patchy flesh on her arm. It no longer resembled the scaly appearance of a Rodian, but was still an archipelago of pinks and reds.

_There are no visions. There is nothing to think about._

Had she really expected that to work?

"Do you remember what happened when I came back to ask for Anelli's support in the Mandalorian Wars?"

"Another vision?" She nodded. Phineas sat up in his chair, folding his arms on the desk in front of him.

"We were all angry. It wasn't exactly a happy reunion."

Talking with the only person in her vision that was still alive was really the only way she could think of to deal with them.

"You were so sure that you would win," he continued, something bitter under his tongue, "So sure that nothing could ever defeat you."

_He believed in her. He would follow her to the end._

"Granted," he added after a moment's thought, "Even I wouldn't have predicted that Malak would ever turn on you."

She didn't know why she had been so disturbed: the vision had only shown her plainly what no one in the Jedi had been able to explain to her.

"Malak stroked your ego because he loved you. Your word was law to him, and once you said something was so, Malak believed it. When you said you wouldn't fall, that you were the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy...well, you had an equally powerful Jedi at your side repeating it to you."

_She was Revan, a Jedi; she cowered before no one._

It disturbed her because it had shown her exactly why and how she had fallen.

"If I had listened to you then, we might not be having this conversation."

Phineas gave her a sardonic smile.

"If you had listened to me, the reason we wouldn't be having this conversation would be that we were killed or captured by the Mandalorians." She smiled back at him.

Everything seemed less severe when around this brother of hers: She didn't feel so much like a genocidal Sith Lord, with another prospective Sith Lord on the make trying to murder her.

But Carth hadn't escaped unscathed. Nothing could make her forget that.

"So there's nothing you can tell me about an underground Sith movement here?" Katrina asked, straightening up. "You don't know anything about a transaction between presumably Haytham and this new Sith?"

Phineas' face looked strained and uncomfortable.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Phineas."

He broke into nervous laughter.

"I haven't heard my name in that tone for a while now-"

"_Phineas,_"Katrina said again, this time in the tone that still gave her nightmares, the tone of an unrelenting demon.

He knew something. Something he was keeping from her. She didn't need the Force to tell her that, although it was going off like the shrieking of an emergency alarm on the _Endar Spire_.

"Look at your datapad," he forced through his teeth, glancing around as though there were spies in his own home.

"No, I want to know exactly what information you have, and I want to know now."

"Keep your voice down,"herbrotheradded warningly.

"I'll keep it down as soon as you tell me what you know about the Sith-"

"Some things are not that easy, Revan." His voice grew so low that she had to strain to hear it.

"I told you that there are colleagues of mine on that list- I can only go so far in betraying them."

Katrina glanced at her pack, as if she could see the damning object through the material. Phineas eyed her meaningfully.

_You do realize what you're getting yourself into, don't you?_

She could feel his fear, his anger, his pain all wrapped up like tiny trip mines within him. And the only apparent reason for any of it was that he was risking perhaps the most important thing in his life to help her.

She took his hand and squeezed it as she rose to leave.

"I understand. Thank you." He gave her that faint smile again, settling back into his normal composed posture.

She felt his slight relief, his sense of achievement behind her as she left his home. Why not? She would feel guilty accomplishment too if she managed to hide her betrayal from all her closest friends.

"Hello, my friend."

Juhani stood outside of the offices, waiting for her.

"Juhani. What are you doing here?" The Cathar smiled somewhat apologetically.

"Bastila advised that someone should perhaps accompany you. She was...concerned that you might react negatively from our recent discovery." Juhani frowned, as if Bastila were standing nearby and could see her evident annoyance at this assumption.

"I assured her that you would do nothing of the sort; you have proven time and again that you are a true Jedi. But Bastila was persistent, and thus I volunteered to come as a friend. I apologize...I know I have not been very attentive due to my undertaking in training Dustil." Katrina waved her away, though she too could not keep the irritation out of her features.

She was no longer the grinning Jedi initiate sent to collect Star Maps. She was no longer the student to Bastila's condescending eyes. Still a Padawan, admittedly, but the title was a formality only.

_I am that proud and rash woman in my dreams, who believes that nothing in thegalaxy can harm her. I am a former Jedi Knight turned Sith Lord turned Jedi again._

She had controlled herself after waking up from the attack; after seeing Carth like that, after the Jedi allowed his son to begin the training, after visiting the suspects so far, hadn't she? Ruhol a near miss, perhaps, but even so...

_There is no ignoring what is festering inside you. There is no denial._

Katrina kept these thoughts to herself as she and Juhani began to walk back in the direction of the _Ebon Hawk_.

"How's Mission?"

"She is recovering well. It is fortunate that she was in the company of two powerful Jedi when she sustained her injuries, or she might have fallen to them."

"And Dustil?"

"It is difficult to gauge my Padawan's progress at times. He displays a keen interest in the Jedi teachings and learns quickly, and yet sometimes his justifications show such inbred anger, such hate." The Cathar glanced guiltily at her.

"Much of his anger lies in his feelings towards you."

_There is no defensiveness. There is no thinking that the feeling is mutual. _

She felt like a schoolgirl trying to gather the gossip on a boy she was trying to court. She wanted Dustil's approval, Dustil's acceptance, even if she felt that she didn't have to give it back to him.

Most of all, she felt somewhat jealous that, although he was Carth's son and she was Carth's love, he still chose to confide in Juhani rather than her.

"In time, he will see you for what you are, Revan-"

"No, Juhani, I doubt that he will,"Katrina muttered.

The _Ebon Hawk_'s familiar cockpit beckoned from the port they had finally reached. She gazed at it, thinking of the first time she had seen it: pulling frantically out of Davik's crumbling lair, dodging falling debris.

Watching Carth finally grin sheepishly and wipe the sweat off his brow after they had finally cleared the planet and the waiting Sith fleet.

She could still remember that slight feeling that someone was using her arteries as marionette strings when Carth had first told her of his wife, of Dustil. She could still remember realizing (however ridiculous such superficial feelings had been in light of their mission) that she had no chance in hell with this roguish Republic officer who had already lived his life and watched it fall apart.

She was beginning to fear that she hadn't been wrong.

"In my studies of the Jedi Code, of the teachings that our Order revolves around," the Cathar began slowly, "I have determined that the dark side often comes out of a desire to serve the light. A desire for power over evil that is hard to defeat, fear of the atrocities that, in the end, a fallen Jedi ends up committing themselves."

Juhani put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Dustil's anger and his fall were regrettable and unfortunate, but they were both his choices. You were not responsible for them. In time, he will come to see that. I am proud to say that he is my Padawan."

_If he had to be entrusted to anyone, at least it was Juhani,_ she reminded herself.

Juhani was the only one she trusted to ask questions about the dark side both had experienced without fear of a lecture on the dangers of the dark side and the obvious superiority of the light; all while never actually answering the question.

HK-47 turned his metallic head towards them.

"Salutation: I see you have returned, Master. I am hurt that you chose not to include me in your previous outings. The Mandalorian meatbag made them sound most appealing."

"Well if you're a good little droid and shine up all your weaponry, maybe I'll take you along next time."

"Observation: Your morbid sense of humor has not changed, Master. I find it most comforting."

Bastila walked briskly up to them.

"Revan, I-"

The same irritation she had felt earlier that Bastila did not trust her, did not believe that she was no longer a Sith, was suddenly much stronger now that she was in the Jedi's presence. She gazed severely at her.

"What?" Bastila narrowed her eyes, hesitating for only a moment.

"I believe we may safely assume that Haytham is the one responsible for the transaction of weapons with the unknown Sith."

"And why's that?" The nasty tones escaping from her throat surprised even her. She pulled out the datapad, finding the information on Haytham.

"Haytham is a highly ranking superior officer within the ranks of the Anellian Mining Corporation, a company responsible for all weapons production on Anelli. Since this is the planet's chief source of income, it would be correct to assume that the AMC holds enormous sway in the political arena as well,"Katrina read aloud.

"Haytham's position within the company would give him exclusive access to the prototype weapons used in the attack," Juhani murmured.

_A Jedi is not childish, a Jedi is not stubborn. A Jedi still isn't refusing to buy a fellow Jedi's theory because of petty feelings of hurt pride._

"Haytham has a long history of quietly supporting the Republic in all things, until a mandate from Coruscant declared his most prized accomplishment, the 'Inferno' line of demolitions, as illegal. It is said that Haytham is the only known possessor of these weapons despite the order to have them destroyed. Their properties are unknown."

_Although I think their title might give a little something away._

"Since then, Haytham's support of the Republic has been nonexistent-"

"We should investigate him immediately," Bastila cut in.

Katrina glared at the Jedi. With all her constant expostulating about how they should avoid drawing quick conclusions, how she shouldn't travel the easy path of blaming the first possible suspect, how she must constantly be on guard against these things, for they were the harbingers of darkness-

The Jedi's constant hypocrisy drove angry spikes into her already impatient personality.

"There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge," she hissed.

Bastila's eyes became glassy. The Code seemed to carry the opposite effect on the Jedi than what was intended- Katrina could feel the emotion searing under the Jedi's seemingly calm exterior.

"Haytham knows that we are investigating him. Here." She thrust a datapad towards her. Katrina took it, eying Bastila suspiciously.

_Revan-_

_In an effort to prevent the violent deaths that have been your calling card for the eminent and now late Faris and Ruhol, I will instead invite you to the Anellian Mining Corporation offices to discuss any kind of investigation you may be conducting. I am not acquainted with the kind of investigation that ends in blood twice, however. Former Sith and currently favorably connected woman that you are, I would venture a guess that you are more well versed than I. Before you strike me down however, you may find that we both have information that will benefit the other. – Haytham_

"What manner of message is this?" Juhani said, frowning.

_Look, sister, something just doesn't add up._

It was in moments like this that she missed him, even down to his paranoid little idiosyncrasies.

"It's a trap."


	34. Chapter 34

Bastila folded her arms, her head held high in triumph. Katrina only glared back, as though the Jedi had been part of whatever Haytham was obviously planning.

"Where did this come from?"

"It was sent to the _Hawk_ from a location somewhere west of Fornia," Canderous said as hecame wandering out from the corridor, fastening various pieces of armor to his clothing as though they were readying to head straight into battle.

"It's evident that he knows something of the Sith," Bastila added, bolstered by the Mandalorian's unspoken support. "He already knows of your presence on the planet, your identity, and of our investigation into Faris and Ruhol."

His knowledge of their investigation didn't faze her. She was surprised more people didn't know about the deaths of two aristocratic and politically involved men. Their ends hadn't exactly been quiet and peaceful.

"And it's also quite clear that he's trying to lure us to him," Katrina replied angrily.

_Does this idiot really think I'm not going to realize that this smacks of ulterior motives? Who does he think he's dealing with here? _

"Revan," Bastila replied in a tone of disbelief. "Haytham may hold the key to the identities of both the Sith in the recording, the weapon used in your attack, and the knowledge of the true perpetrator."

"And you think it's a wise idea to walk straight into a potential trap?"

_Look at me, the good little patient Jedi. _She felt smug satisfaction with herself, despite the fact that the absence of rage was probably more due to her being incensed at the fact that _this_ was the best this Haytham character could throw at her.

"There is a possibility that the Sith movement on Anelli is larger than merely the two shown in Ruhol's documents. There may be more than two to deal with," Juhani added hesitantly. The Cathar's loyalty seemed torn between both Katrina and Bastila, unsure of which Jedi was the wiser to support and which the unwise to anger.

"The Jedi princessis probably right on this occasion," Canderous added, grunting as his energy shields locked into place with a satisfying click.

"I understand and respect your tactics, Revan, but we are at least seven strong. Whatever this corporate officer might have waiting for us cannot be any worse than anything we've faced before."

"I'm not afraid, Canderous, and I don't doubt any of us; I just happen to think that to happily frolic into whatever cage Haytham might be setting up is a stupid idea."

"Is that your opinion simply because the idea is mine?" Bastila retorted, her always slightly-perturbed expression coupled with the haughtiness in her tone making her seem like a spoiled child.

Rather than making some kind of snide remark that the dark side hadn't entirely left Bastila after all, Katrina instead shoved the datapad towards the Jedi and stalked off towards the small sickbay.

Mission glanced up at her as she entered, her usually quick motions dulled as though under the influence of a sedative.

"You look like a Wookiee who just had a hairball." Her verbal responses, however, had lost none of their spirit.

"How are you feeling?"

Mission leaned her head back into the bed, closing her eyes.

"This getting shot deal works out pretty well; Zaalbar and Canderous do all the work, and I lay around all day. Of course, it might not have worked out so well if I didn't have a bunch of Jedi around too." Katrina nodded. It was as close to a 'thank you for saving me' as she could expect from the independent and hot-headed Twi'lek.

"So...sounds like there's a pretty good brawl starting out there," Mission murmured, glancing around behind Katrina.

"No, no brawl." She eyed Mission, who had come so close to death without even realizing it. Only she and Bastila could know how much of the Force had been needed to save her.

The thought of the young Twi'lek's narrow escape made her angry.

"What will you do about the mining officer?" Zaalbar growled, entering the room behind her to resume his almost-constant vigil on his friend.

"I sent Big Z out to get the update," Mission explained with a wink to the Wookiee.

Katrina didn't reply, pulling out her own datapad and mulling over the information about Haytham again.

Haytham had probably supplied the weapon, whatever it was. Haytham had sold similar weapons to two unknown Sith, both of which had probably plotted the attack against her.

So, if she followed the chain of reasoning, everything eventually led back to Haytham.

_He'll have to learn that it takes more than a thermal bomb to stop me. _

"I'll meet with him."

"You cannot go alone. I will follow you," Zaalbar replied. Katrina smiled, reminded again of the Wookiee's life debt to her.

After she had asked him to stay on the _Ebon Hawk_ with Mission, after she had left all of them to be with Carth, it was easy to forget that she had changed his life enough that he would follow her into death.

The thought always gave her comfort: _I am Katrina, a Jedi with a green lightsaber, a man that loves me._

"I won't be alone, Zaalbar," she replied, turning and striding back into the center of the ship. "I have a plan."

­­­­

* * *

"That should be it," Canderous announced. The _Ebon Hawk_ hovered over a compound a few kilometers west of the city, like so many other structures built right into the giant red peaks that comprised the planet's surface.

The two main mountainous structures looked like the towers of some kind of castle. Smoke and probably a fair amount of other chemicals churned out of the depths, as if they were the volcanoes of Korriban.

_Foreboding structure, a small distance between itself and the populated areas, and we're arriving around sunset. Couldn't be more textbook,_ Katrina thought.

"This plan isn't exactly...dripping with Jedi ideals," Dustil said, hesitating for a moment as if to choose the correct words.

"I would think keeping all of you out of danger to be a particularly Jedi ideal,"Katrina replied tersely.

"And throwing yourself straight into the frying pan is?"

She glared at the younger Onasi over her shoulder.

"But hey, what do I know?" Dustil said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm just the Padawan."

Bastila turned around from where she sat in the co-pilot's seat to watch Katrina as she rose from her chair.

"And people say _my_ ideas are foolish-"

"We'll be ready when you need us." The Mandalorian's tone was commanding and sharp, the tone that must have managed to commands legions of his countrymen in the past.

It achieved what it needed to, and the rest of the party was silent as Katrina nodded and made her way towards the gangplank.

The _Hawk_ hovered near a flat break in the rocks off to the back of the building. Katrina steadied herself as the gangplank lowered, and leapt cleanly onto the ground.

The red earth crunched underneath her feet, and she nodded in acknowledgment to Canderous and Bastila in the cockpit. She then began the process of moving down the rocky slope to the enormous entrance of the plant.

The plan was constructed so that she would have this time to think; to plan, to calm herself so that what almost happened with Ruhol wouldn't assuredly happen with Haytham.

She was the bait; the _Hawk_ was the diversion. Bastila, Canderous, and HK-47 were her backup. They would enter the plant after her, forcibly if necessary. She would lull Haytham into whatever feeling of smug satisfaction he was after, and then with her comrades she would drop him back into reality and find out everything she needed to know. Should something happen, she would use the Force to signal Juhani on the _Hawk_ to cause some minor damage to the plant.

Katrina, however, would enter it as peacefully as possible.

_Or die trying, _she thought with a morbid smile.

The main entrance to the offices and main distribution center of the Anellian Mining Corporation were made of immense steel with no windows. Four guards stood outside of them, standing vigil over the broad red earthen path leading from the building to the city of Fornia in the distance.

It didn't look like a very beaten path, and Katrina supposed the majority of visitors were either picking up or dropping off goods, or landed at a private dock.

She furtively stuck her hand out, watching as the guards' attention turned to some obscure bolder in the area the Force had distracted them.

Quickly Katrina waltzed out onto the path as if she had been walking it alone all the way from Fornia.

"This is a restricted area. Hours of operation are over, citizen," one of the guards said mechanically as their focused attention on the boulder gradually faded.

"I have an appointment with one of your superiors, a Mister Haytham." The guard nodded in sudden realization.

"You are expected. Please, follow me."

His voice dripped with the overbearing eagerness of a rehearsed script. She shook her head with a smile as she followed the guard through a smaller, hidden door and into the plant.

_Practically textbook._

"Your weapon, Master Jedi," the guard murmured, holding one hand out for her lightsaber and the other hoisting his blaster in the air in case she should decide to strike.

Katrina dutifully handed it to him. If the ease of distracting them was any indication, getting her lightsaber back if she needed it shouldn't be a concern.

The guard led her through the sculpted halls of Anelli's sole source of economic income. Rather than building around the mountain, they had shaped it to serve their needs, from long corridors to lighting holders.

They took no chances with droids apparently. Every guard was a sentient. She felt something hanging over the air, something slightly off kilter with the whole picture of a successful company and its security team.

_They're Sith,_ she realized at once. While the absence of their usual uniforms might have fooled casual inspectors, they couldn't fool her.

So the Sith had infiltrated the entire operation. If she hadn't entirely believed Ruhol's recording, this now confirmed that Haytham was linked with the two mysterious Sith.

These Sith were connected to both Faris and Ruhol, and now Haytham. Katrina struggled to think of connections between the three, and could find none.

Other than the fact that she would be responsible for all three of their deaths.

The guard led her into what looked like a large meeting room. A dozen or so other members of the security detail straightened the moment she entered. Two dozen eyes watched her every step, their fingers practically twitching on their blasters. Apparently Haytham was taking no chances.

Katrina eyed the guard who had led her in carefully, nodding to herself in satisfaction when he finally assumed a post in the corner of the room. He had her lightsaber. If he disappeared into the labyrinth of the building, she would be at a definite disadvantage.

She stood there for a few moments. The guard had made no message, summoned no persons. She glanced around warily, ready if the lights were to suddenly go out or if the dark Jedi that she had seen in the recording would come leaping out of some hidden room.

"Forgive me for not meeting you during our hours of operation, but I thought business such as ours was perhaps best conducted off the clock." The voice came from some kind of audio system within the room. Katrina located the speakers in each corner, but the man speaking them was nowhere to be found.

"Haytham, I presume?"

The voice chuckled, echoing off the rocky walls of the meeting room.

"Very astute observation, Master Jedi." He laughed again at his own wittiness, a slightly nasal quality to his voice.

"How about you observe the fact that you agreed to meet with me, not broadcast your own idiocy over an audio system."

She didn't like this. It was disconcerting, being surrounded by disguised Sith without a weapon in her hands, the loudness of his voice within the room, the inability to know where he was or what he was planning.

_There is no ignorance, there is no fear._

"You are the one unarmed and alone, _Revan_," The by-now clichéd hiss that her name had become didn't faze her. "I will do the bargaining in this transaction."

"I imagine you don't get to do much of it in your pathetic little position within this corporation."

She had had enough experience with anger to know that courting it from others could cause them to abandon their carefully constructed plans in favor of unbridled rage.

"I believe we have a few things to share with each other," the voice drawled, unaffected by her bait.

The Sith security officers stared at her. She tried to pretend each of them in turn was Haytham, staring them down until they averted their gazes.

"You know of the attack, then?"

"'We are investigating an attack on a highly respected Republic war hero," She quickly recognized her own voice. "'And the Dark Lord Revan.'"

She didn't sound any less uncomfortable saying her own name on a recording than she did in reality.

"How did you get that?"

Haytham made a small snort of satisfaction.

"My 'pathetic little position' allows me almost complete control over the economy of the planet. Did you really think the Committee's sessions were private? On a planet so obsessed with politics? You certainly don't live up to your reputation."

"And you know of Faris and Ruhol," she added.

Haytham played another recording. Katrina recognized distinctly the death rattles of both men. She shivered.

"You haven't exactly been discreet," the corporate officer said.

"And you know who I am."

Haytham gave an airy sigh, as though bored by her questions.

"Do you really suppose a member of the Committee could hide the fact that he had a Sith Lord for a sister forever?"

He was threatening her brother. She felt her fists tighten.

_There is no frustration. There is no impatience. There are, however, a dozen Sith guards surrounding you and you have no weapon. _

_There is no passion; there is serenity._

"It would seem we are at cross-purposes, Revan," the voice continued. "I have something you want, and you have something I want, and yet to give into either would put the other at a decided disadvantage."

A diversion would be needed, and soon. She struggled to clear her head, knowing she would be unable to reach out to either Bastila or Juhani through the Force if she was muddled by this executive's circles of bargaining.

"You're certainly correct. If I killed you, I definitely wouldn't get the information I desire."

Haytham laughed again at her.

"You see Revan, this is exactly the reason you are no longer the Dark Lord- your supreme arrogance." The disguised Sith guards now seemed to come alive. 'Arrogance' must have been their code word. They raised their weapons at Katrina.

She smirked up at the vastness of the crimson rock wall.

"Attempting to kill me won't make me very sympathetic to this little transaction."

"Ah, but becoming my captive certainly will."

'Captive' slid off the walls as devious as it sounded. The guards began to advance on her.

Her hand was out so fast to extend her lightsaber that it was a complete shock when she went to attack and found there was nothing in her hands.

Panic, much like that which had overtook her awaking on the _Jedi Chaser_, now invaded her body, paralyzing her for a few agonizing seconds.

_The _Hawk. _Trigger the distraction, there was never a better time, find that guard, get your lightsaber-_

Her thoughts were abruptly silenced, and she felt a breeze somewhere around her ankles. She wondered momentarily how funny the look of utter surprise and confusion on her face must have looked as the floor opened up beneath her and she fell.


	35. Chapter 35

For a few seconds, it seemed as though she would be falling forever into a chasm of black.

That abruptly changed the moment her body landed with a loud thud on the steel floor. The shock of metal meeting a body caught off guard kept her lying on it, paralyzed for a moment or so.

_This is not the _Jedi Chaser_. I am not burned. Carth is not dead. There is no passion, there is serenity_.

The Code only worked to change her panic into frustration and anger.

_There is no serenity, there is only the knowledge that you have failed._

Katrina opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings slowly. She had slid down a tunnel from the meeting room to a detention cell; the wall that had opened up to deposit her within the cell was now sealed. A force field of blue crackled above her head, the only apparent exit from the cell itself.

She was alone. She was alone, and unarmed, and locked up in a detention cell without having found Haytham or the Sith.

She pushed herself up, letting out a wince as she located a number of bumps and bruises on various points of her body.

What had she been thinking? She had wandered blindly into a room in which she was surrounded. No- not only had she wandered blindly into a room in which she was surrounded, but she had also given her lightsaber to a nameless, faceless Sith who might have dumped it into a garbage chute by now.

Her idiocy made her angry and her anger shamed her because she knew that this was the reason she had failed; her inability to control her anger towards Haytham, her inability to keep control of the situation.

Katrina inspected the cell. There were no controls inside it. The force field was a good few meters above her head. She could jump it if it were off, but without her lightsaber there was no way to possibly weaken it.

She finally leaned back against the wall and slumped back to the floor.

_She was Revan, a Jedi; she cowered before no one._

Not only was she a fool, but she was a conceited fool. To think that she was so above Haytham, a character with obviously more intelligence than she had given him credit for...

She shivered. Revan, who believed she was so powerful. Katrina, who had bought Revan's lies.

Had Bastila or Juhani felt her sudden moment of fear? Were they now also walking into the same trap?

She closed her eyes, trying to reach out to one of them. She got nothing but a slight headache for her troubles.

_Carth would never have let me do anything so stupid. _

The silence was immediately interrupted by the sound of footsteps above her, walking across the metallic floor. She heard them echo off the walls of her cell. She felt fear, bravado, and concentration all mixed into one somewhat conflicted Force user coming towards her.

Katrina stood, staring up at the glowing blue force field. Was it one of the two mysterious Sith coming for her?

Goosebumps formed on her arms. _I'm as good as a tach against a disruptor rifle._

But to her surprise, the face that came to the edge of the force field and peered down at her was not marked with the pale varicose veins of the dark side.

Dustil Onasi sighed, grinning in relief.

"Finally. This place has got more detention cells than an actual prison. Isn't this supposed to be a mining corporation office?"

She gazed up at the familiar Onasi features with more gratitude than she would have liked.

"How did you know where I was?"

Dustil moved to begin working on the force field's controls.

"We knew Haytham didn't kill you, so we assumed he stashed you away somewhere. I don't think I would have found you if you hadn't just called out through the Force though." He glanced at her and then turned back to the controls.

She hadn't even thought of him. It was so much easier to simply see him as the morose stepson than the Padawan-in-training with the potential to become as powerful as any of them.

The blue force field drew back inside it's projectors with a hiss. Katrina leapt out of the cell, landing next to Dustil.

He was clad in his Sith uniform. She looked him up and down, trying to keep the appraisal out of her face. Dustil saw it nonetheless, narrowing his eyes.

"It was the only way to sneak around in this place," he said tersely, turning around and heading in the direction of the exit.

She didn't know what to say. To look at him threw her sense of time and place entirely out of whack, and she felt as though she were back on Korriban at square one and the past months hadn't even happened.

"Where is everyone?" she finally said, following him closely.

"Canderous, Bastila, and HK are storming the place just like you ordered them. Master Juhani felt your capture and sent me to find you. Mission and Zaalbar are hiding out in the Hawk. Ordo's got a communication device if we need to follow through on the distraction idea though." He led her through the hallways with a look of concentration on his face, his movements always slightly ahead of his feet as though the Force was yanking on an invisible leash.

"Have they found Haytham yet?" she demanded.

A blaster shot rang out above their heads as they rounded a corner. Dustil pulled out his lightsaber.

"No, but I think his guards have found us."

"Isn't that uniform supposed to deter that?" Dustil only glared at her.

"I don't have a weapon." she finally admitted. The younger Onasi glanced back at her belt incredulously as if to make sure she was telling the truth. A slight smirk came over his face as if he was fighting to keep from making some kind of remark.

"I guess you'll just have to follow me then."

Dustil whirled out from around the corner, his red lightsaber blazing. A few of the guards ran at the sight, but a few more weren't intimidated.

_Follow you? Not going to happen, kid._

Katrina flew at one of them, catching him off guard and tackling him to the floor. The rest turned on her immediately, but with Dustil's lightsaber and a blaster in her hands, they didn't last long.

"Or...not," Dustil replied grimly, watching her as she stepped over the bodies of the guards, hefting the blaster she had ripped out of the first one's hands.

Katrina didn't answer, waiting for him to begin down the next corridor.

She could only hope he knew where he was going. Some kind of connection between Padawan and Master had to be helping him in navigating the labyrinth building.

"It's the Jedi!" The familiar exclamation came at them from every new turn, and Katrina hoped the blaster she was holding wasn't going to run out of ammo at any point.

She despised blasters, though she'd never admit that to Carth, who had almost a fond affection for his. She watched his son slash through the guards with his red blade, feeling almost jealous.

A vibroblade clanged to the floor as the last Sith fell. Katrina dropped the blaster and picked it up.

Good. Now she was at least back in familiar territory.

"Damn." She glanced over at Dustil, whose lightsaber was looking thin and weak. Small sparks bubbled over from its hilt. He smacked it a few times with his hands, the beam quavering and pulsing before finally righting itself.

She didn't mean for her next words to sound as vindictive and sarcastic as he obviously took them, his mouth forming a straight line and his hands gripping his weapon as if it were the blade of Ajunta Pall.

"I guess you'll just have to follow me, then."

* * *

"Stop." Dustil's instruction wasn't needed, as he stopped so abruptly in front of the door that she ran into him.

"I...feel something," he said, almost squirming under the unfamiliar words.

Katrina brushed past him, running her fingers over the door as if the Force was something tangible.

She felt it too. The adrenaline of battle and the nearby presence of the Force sensitive, the sensory overload making her feel like she had just used a stimulant. Not to mention her bond with Bastila nipping at her heels like a playful gizka.

They forced open the door, finding mostly unconscious and a few dead disguised Sith guards littering the empty room.

Katrina rubbed her forehead, continuing on towards the next door, towards the direction the Force was leading her.

They had probably massacred a fair amount of workers at this office, disguised Sith or not. She had no idea how the hell they were going to get out of this one without getting arrested or put on trial.

The door was locked. She and Dustil forced it open with his lightsaber, despite the blade's protests at being used for something its unaligned crystal couldn't handle.

A few blaster shots bounced off the doorframe right above their heads.

"Suggestion: Master, might I advise that you make your presence known before allowing the meatbag Onasi's offspring to break through a door in Sith uniform?"

Canderous hefted his blaster calmly, walking towards them. HK-47 stood guard next to the door.

"In the future, try using a different colored lightsaber when you're slicing your way through a door. Red tends to set off warning alarms."

"Maybe you should learn to become a little less trigger-happy," Katrina replied evenly.

"About time, kid. I was getting ready to contact you even though I knew it might give you away if you were still sneaking around. Would have been a valuable lesson in quickening the pace." Dustil eyed the Mandalorian with a raised brow but said nothing.

Either he was unlearning the Sith value of being quick to anger, or he was relearning the way to keep hatred bottled until it eventually boiled over.

"Any reason you're holed up in here?"

"The field of unfortunate guards behind you pretty much deters any unwanted visitors," Canderous replied. HK-47 turned his copper head towards her, affecting a threatening pose.

"Colloquialism: As meatbags are fond of saying, Master, presentation is everything."

"So you found Haytham?" The Mandalorian cocked his head in the direction of a door behind them.

"Bastila and the Cathar are getting to know him right now. We haven't seen hide nor hair of the dark Jedi, though." Katrina nodded, moving past them towards the door.

Dark Jedi she would deal with later. Right now she would deal with the man who had supplied the means of making her life fall apart.

They had evidently ambushed the corporate officer in his office. Bastila and Juhani stood on either side of a chair on the visiting side of the desk, their weapons drawn and acting like a cage made of lightsabers for the man in the chair.

Dustil stopped at the door, folding his arms and watching her.

Katrina walked around to the other side of the desk.

"Revan." Juhani's face was a tangle of irritation and sweat. "You were much more efficient than I had expected, Padawan." Dustil gave a nod of recognition from his post against the door.

"Sorry I'm about to deprive you of all the fun."

"Believe me, 'fun' is not a word to describe our Mister Haytham," Bastila snapped.

Haytham raised a devilishly amused face to her.

He wasn't old or wild-eyed like the aristocrats she had faced to this point. He wasn't holed up in a house with an army of droids or a mincing blackmailer with a datapad of secrets. He looked clean, sleek, and polished. He looked as though he knew exactly what he was doing.

Was it his absence of fear that slightly unnerved her? If he was afraid, he hid it incredibly well.

_Probably a trick he picked up from the Sith. _She cracked her knuckles.

"I'm out of patience, Haytham, so I'll spare us any unneeded introductions."

He gave a sardonic smile through an odd glow of green from the reflection of Bastila's yellow blade and Juhani's blue.

"I have no need for your courtesies, Revan." Strange, the voice which has so disoriented her in the trapped room before now bounced harmlessly off the walls in the small office.

He was only a man. A foolish man, who had chosen to ally himself with her enemies. Katrina raised her vibroblade.

"If you haven't anything useful to say, I'm afraid I have no need of _you_." Haytham laughed in a tired sort of way.

"You can't kill me. I know everything."

He was right, and she hated it when someone she despised was right.

"I told you before we had business. I have what you want, and you can do what I can't."

She considered delivering a biting retort, but realized it wouldn't accomplish anything other than a momentary feeling of smug satisfaction.

Katrina seated herself in the owner's chair, putting her hands together and staring across the desk at Haytham.

"You have my attention. Say it quickly or you'll have the attention of my weapon as well."

_I could probably get the same amount of attention from a blaster_.

She was here on Anelli. Carth was there on Telos. Haytham and the Sith he was helping were the reason.

"Show me the weapon." Haytham eyed her, reaching out and punching a few controls on his desk.

A holoprojection splayed up from the center of what Katrina had thought to be a usually ugly paperweight.

"The Inferno line of demolitions," Haytham dictated, hesitating to glare at both Bastila and Juhani until they backed up enough for him to make sweeping gestures with his hands. "Developed using the most precise refinement of Baradium along with the most advanced stealth and guidance technology."

Katrina watched the schematic of the device rotate around in an endless circle. It was small and looked as though it could configure its mechanical plating to any shape.

"How does it work?"

"It is, in essence, a very intelligent thermal detonator. It attaches itself to a section of a ship's hull and explodes once it has become a part of said hull."

"Part of the hull?"

"One of the most innovative features of the Inferno line is its ability to be hidden in any situation. So long as one can get their hands on a sample of the material the weapon is to detonate, any sensors will not detect the weapon as an anomaly. The weapon will attach itself to its intended target and explode its contents directly onto the target's surface."

She couldn't remember anyone suspicious having hung around the _Jedi Chaser_, trying to crack off a piece of her hull. No one could have gotten close enough with Carth around. The _Chaser_ had been his ship; their private getaway. The yacht the Republic had officially rewarded him with sat idle and abandoned in some Republic base.

She couldn't remember where he had gotten it from; whether the seller had reputable connections or not. Whoever it had been, that was probably where a sample of the hull had come from. She berated herself for not paying attention, for not asking questions or thinking ahead.

Maybe the old Carth had been right. You really couldn't trust anyone.

"You're breaking intergalactic statutes. These weapons are banned," she said dumbly.

Haytham smirked proudly.

"A unanimous vote from Coruscant."

"And with good reason," Bastila snapped. "I can't think of a more cowardly and sickening way to win a war."

"Cowardly in the same fashion that you and your companions attempted to secretly infiltrate this office and probably murder me?"

The floating simulation before her changed to show a demonstration of the weapon flying towards a ship and detonating, a large section of the vessel flying out like shrapnel and disappearing when it neared the edge of the projection.

Katrina swallowed hard and slammed her hand down on the controls to silence it.

"The Sith I saw..."

'Murdering' seemed too kind a verb for the look she had seen on the man's face in the holovid.

"The Sith I saw on Ruhol's recording- who are they?"

Haytham scoffed.

"Surely you don't think I'm that stupid," he replied after she gave no reaction.

"If you thought I came all this way to be satisfied by a title for the weapon I've already felt the effects of, then yes, you are that stupid."

Haytham sat back down in the chair, folding his arms in front of him. He stared back at her silently.

_Enough_.

Katrina reached her vibroblade across the desk, pressing it against his throat.

She could feel Bastila and Juhani tense, staring at her as though she were a wild animal that might break free of its weakening chain at any moment.

"I can't kill you. I can get you very close to it, however, unless you tell me what I want to know. _Now_."

She watched a few beads of perspiration roll down Haytham's brow as he eyed her weapon uncertainly.

"They have infiltrated all of Anellian society," he began quietly, "They have their hands in every political, economic, and social body on the planet. A small way to begin for a rising Sith Lord, but an effective one so far away from the Republic."

"Who's they?"

"I have been aiding them in the economic aspect of their takeover," he continued as if she hadn't said a word. "I don't know exactly how they knew you were still alive or how they found you, but they approached me not long after the Inferno line was banned, demanding the weapons."

"How long have these Sith been present on Anelli?" Bastila murmured.

"No one truly knows. There are rumors that Revan gave them a jump start on her last visit, but they may have been hiding and biding their time even before that."

"Why do they desire to assassinate Revan? Are they unaware that she has turned to the light and is no longer a rival for them?" Juhani added. Haytham shrugged.

"A conversion might threaten them even more. They don't share their political agendas with me."

He sighed, frustrated, and then straightened up, the composed smile coming back to his face.

"This brings me to our little agreement, Revan." He leaned forward conspiratorially.

Katrina reluctantly did the same, although her body language was as if he smelled like a pile of bantha droppings.

"These Sith don't know how to conduct business. They want complete control of the Anellian Mining Corporation. I can already feel them tightening the noose around my neck, trying to oust me from my position. I can't allow that to happen, no matter how powerful they are. But I am no Jedi, and I'm no former Sith Lord. I can't strike against them." He hesitated only a moment, as if it were a brief flash of static in a recorded message. "But you can."

Katrina narrowed her eyes.

Being propositioned for murder seemed as though it would be a daily occurrence in her life. What others couldn't do, they asked of her. What others could never see themselves acting on, they expected her to.

_There is no pride, there is only everyone around you constantly reminding you that you can do everything they can't and then getting angry with you when you do._

"Fine." Bastila's jaw seemed to literally drop. Katrina eyed her, trying to will the Jedi to compose herself.

The lectures would come later. And Bastila was probably also under the mistaken impression that a promise to kill the Sith was a lie.

Haytham raised an eyebrow at her easy agreement.

"Well...I'm glad you see things my way. In reality it benefits us both-"

"And now, Haytham, tell me the identities of the Sith." Her voice was cold and unyielding. But she wasn't going to wait any longer.

It hadn't been over with Faris, and it hadn't been over with Ruhol. It hadn't even ended upon finding this smug businessman Haytham.

But she was going to end it. She was tired, and she wanted to go home, to Carth.

Haytham seemed to sweat more, his slicked-back hair looking a little wilder from his man-handling, and wrinkles Katrina hadn't noticed before beginning to appear in the lines of his cheeks.

Katrina felt his fear, and lowered her weapon.

"They're politicians," he said in a heavy voice, looking around the room wildly.

Bastila and Juhani glanced around as if searching for whatever he seemed to be getting so concerned about.

"There are two politicians that are suspects," Katrina added.

"Two?" Haytham gasped, grabbing at his shirt collar. "Is it warm in here?"

Katrina glanced around. Nothing had changed in the room.

Nothing except that it was now rank with fear, anger, and hate, as odious as any other foul stench.

She drew her weapon, looking around warily. Haytham clutched at his throat. They were trying to silence him.

"They've been betrayed-" he choked out. "Abbas and Sakh, and-" He fell out of the chair and onto the ground, unable to speak, grasping wildly at his throat as if the hand clenching it closed was tangible and could be pried off.

Dustil looked strained. He held out his lightsaber, stepping carefully in a large circle around and around the room.

He looked more afraid than any of them.

The door behind them burst open in a small explosion of smoke and blaster fire. Katrina stood over Haytham, coughing and straining to see through the fog.

Canderous and HK came barreling through it, firing their blasters wilding at the billowing gray clouds.

"Revan!" he yelled, rolling something across the ground to her. Katrina dove to retrieve it.

It was her lightsaber. She quickly tossed the vibroblade behind her, eying the Mandalorian quizzically.

"Found it on some unlucky guard out there. You're going to need it."

The smoke finally began to clear, and Katrina saw the outlines of two red blades coming towards them.

She would need it. Abbas and Sakh, the rising Sith, stood before her.


	36. Chapter 36

This was nothing but wasteland before. Nothing but fear and anger. 

_She couldn't stop marveling at it, at how she was only feet away from where she had been captured, briefly imprisoned and threatened with a lynch mob only to escape to hell itself. _

_She glanced over towards the energy fields. They were still here, albeit repaired and offering more protection than denial._

_Nothing could survive on the other side now, with or without the Force._

_"Welcome to Telos, Master Jedi." The voice that greeted them was soft and inviting._

_"I've been instructed to take you and your companions to more comfortable quarters." The Force flowed freely here, through both the young woman in front of her and the rejuvenated planet around her._

_"Waverly?" Bastila called out. The young woman turned back around._

_"It is kind of you to remember me, Master Jedi."_

_The young woman had survived the rebuilding then. She had always wondered all those months how the planet had fared, whether they had left it to civil war and annihilation by their own hands, or whether Carth had risen up and led them back to the peace she saw before her._

_"It looks as though you and your people have been hard at work," Bastila said. The young woman's soft, sad smile came again._

_"The Jedi have been a great help to us, as well as the leadership of Admiral Onasi. He is most eager to see you."_

_She felt butterflies in her stomach and chastised herself for acting like some lovesick adolescent._

_"Your leader was successful then even though he chose a pretty inopportune moment to rejoin society," Canderous remarked._

_Waverly's smile weakened for a moment, as if it were a thin piece of gauze barely hanging onto her face._

_"Leman is no longer with us. He did not survive our initial efforts to bring peace back to Telos."_

_So it hadn't been so smooth. She wondered how many had died, how many of the soft-spoken Force-sensitives had been sacrificed before someone on the planet came to their senses. She wondered if it had been Carth to remind them of their sanity. _

_But the peace did not come without a price. Nothing ever did._

Yes,_ she thought, watching her Padawan's straight shoulders and upright head following the young woman into the building, _nothing comes without a price.

* * *

Which one was which she couldn't guess off-hand. 

Both were tall; clad in identical robes of black and gray, the only sign that both were human the cold stare of two pairs of eyes from behind their face coverings.

Their anonymity and nondescript features only made her grip her lightsaber more protectively. It was so much easier to kill them when they were faceless, when they were nameless.

She heard Haytham gasping for breath behind her, but neither Sith had a clenched fist raised, the dead giveaway for a proper Force choke.

_What the hell are you waiting for? An invitation? Jedi do not stand staring in awe at Sith. Jedi do not waste precious seconds wondering what's going on._

_Jedi act._

Katrina stepped forward, out of the half circle she and her companions had formed around both Sith. Slowly she began to step around both of them.

Neither seemed particularly concerned. They stood, lightsabers half raised, watching her as though she were an exotic looking bug.

Their indifference began to irritate her.

"If all you came here to do was to get a good look at us, you could have sent away for a holoprint just as easily."

She was in a panic, and the panic was making her spit out witty retorts that were more the fare for fresh recruits in the Republic rather than a former Sith Lord-reformed Jedi.

Katrina struggled to clear her head, biting her lower lip as if that would stop anything else from coming out of her mouth.

They would sense her confusion in a minute, they would-

She barely moved her lightsaber up in time to block the attack of the leaner one. Too late. They had discovered their advantage.

The rest of her companions exploded in a mass of whirling lightsabers and blaster fire. Neither Sith seemed to have much trouble deflecting the blaster shots, leaving HK and Canderous to busy themselves trying to find new ways to catch them off guard. She and Bastila concentrated on the one who had attacked her first while Juhani and Dustil rushed towards the other.

His less bulky frame was the only thing distinguishing him from his companion. Both reeked foul of frustration and rage.

Was it too soon to assume this one, the one that had attacked first, was the apprentice and the other the master? Did that hierarchy even exist?

Her mind was wandering. She felt her bond Bastila crawling around her brain, trying to take her by the hand and lead her back to the battle she was in the midst of.

"Abbas?" she tried calling out. The Sith only slashed at her again.

"Or maybe you're Sakh," Bastila added.

"Quite a way for a politician to act." It was poor bait; Abbas or Sakh, whichever the one in front of her might be, didn't bite.

He did, however, suddenly stretch out his arm and knock both of them off their feet.

Katrina exchanged a glance with Bastila as they hurriedly pushed themselves back up and headed back towards him.

Over the shoulder of the Sith she was battling she saw Dustil. His jaw seemed bolted shut, and he breathed angrily through his nostrils as he made calculated swings at the other Sith.

The other was more stocky, though not any shorter. He gripped his lightsaber and handled it as though it weighed far more than the few kilograms its base added up to.

Haytham's office was small and cramped, and she didn't like it. Haytham himself now lay crumpled behind the desk, his face somewhat blue.

Whatever information he might have had was now clenched in the fist of whatever Sith had been able to choke him without showing it.

She hadn't even been able to _sense_ the action from either.

_Something's wrong here._

From behind her Katrina heard the sound of short circuiting electrical components and turned just in time to see HK's joints freeze in a position of attack. A metallic groan escaped and then both the acerbic droid and his blaster fell silent.

Neither Sith had done that.

She and the other Jedi danced around them, trying to lure them out of the office and back out into the open room of fallen guards.

The force (it wasn't the living Force she knew; it wasn't the capitalized one) seemed stronger here, which made it both harder to fight and harder to locate. Regardless, whatever was systematically silencing them one by one was somewhere in this room.

She heard the low laughter of the Sith. She heard Juhani's nostrils flare in frustration. She watched Dustil Onasi slide across the floor and into the sparking frame of the door. Smoke curled up from the fabric of his uniform, but he rolled himself firmly into the floor to kill it and launched himself back towards the Sith.

She struggled to watch his face, take comfort in the familiar Onasi features. She tried not to look at his uniform, at his blazing red lightsaber-

Her sparring partner swung dangerously near her ear. Katrina forced herself to concentrate. Juhani was with Dustil; he was not her responsibility. He had made this decision, and she hadn't approved. It was for him to fight his battles.

Literally.

"We were mistaken in our estimation," the Sith before her remarked, cold and emotionless. She narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. A diversion, and little else," the other replied between breaths, and Katrina dimly realized they were discussing her. As they fought her.

She was fighting something else, the something else that was managing to slam them into walls, shut down their droid, pull their weapons out of their hands and choke Haytham to death without so much as an eyebrow raise from either of the Sith they were actually sparring against.

"Why try to kill the diversion then?" she panted, swinging furiously at him.

She saw the corners of the Sith's eyes wrinkle up, his cheekbones protruding through the open patch for his eyes and realized that he was smiling under the mask.

"He knows you well. You say exactly what is expected of you."

She saw Carth, decaying in a medical facility on Telos. She saw Dustil slashing wildly through the air. She saw Malak standing at the door of her mother's sickroom. She saw Phineas, smiling kindly at her and handing her the datapad that might stop this madness.

_Who is he? Who knows me well?_

Bastila whirled around her, knocking the Sith that was about to deal her a particularly nasty blow backwards. The Jedi raised her eyebrows at her desperately

_The diversion. The _Hawk-

As if by thinking it alone, a large tremor suddenly shook the building. Red dust floated down from the ceiling and they fought to keep their balance. The lighting coughed and sputtered until it was only a soft reflection off the crimson stone surrounding them.

Canderous came bounding into the room from wherever he had been.

"About time one of us used their head!" he snapped, motioning with his blaster between shots towards the door.

The building was constructed to withstand natural seismic activity, but an attack from a small ship was obviously an entirely different matter. The frames that helped hold the rock formations into the shape of a square room began to groan from the weight.

The leaner Sith tossed his lightsaber towards them between blocking blaster shots. The heavier set one stood, cautiously watching the bits of rock fall and scatter across the floor.

"Come on. Coppertop weighs a lot more than he looks." Katrina glanced at the Mandalorian and noticed he was dragging the fried HK behind him.

Another tremor, this one stronger than all the others, shook the room. She grasped the wall, trying to stay up.

"P-perhaps we m-might have t-taught Zaalbar and Mission the b-basics of weapons m-management on the s-ship," Bastila stuttered as the room vibrated around them.

A door at the far side of the room exploded loudly under the pressure. Katrina turned back just in time to watch a figure come leaping through it and skid to a stop near the two Sith.

She stopped dead in her tracks. That was him, whatever had killed Haytham and distracted them all during the battle, most of all her. This one looked hardly any different from the leaner one she had been fighting- only this one did not carry a lightsaber. She saw no weapon on him at all.

"Revan!" Juhani yelled. Katrina finally turned and fled towards the ship.

* * *

_Three._

"Trying to blow up the whole place or what?" Canderous muttered, striding into the cockpit and leaving a trail of armor in his wake.

Mission turned around in the co-pilot's chair with an irritated look.

"Don't start lecturing me when I got myself out of bed to come save your sorry big-shot warrior butt. You're all in one piece."

From the center of the ship Katrina could hear the echo of T3's exclamations of droid worry over the dismantled HK.

_Tell that to HK. He's likely to turn you into many pieces._

"We picked up a transmission from the police forces in Fornia. They're aware of our infiltration at the plant. The city may no longer be a safe haven," Zaalbar growled.

"Is there somewhere out of the way you can take us?" Bastila said tiredly, elbowing her way past Canderous and towards the controls.

_Three._

Katrina reached into her pack, pulling out the datapad.

_Sakh is a known Sith sympathizer. He was one of the first to vote for supporting Revan and Malak when they returned as Sith in the war against the Republic. He claims not to understand either Jedi or their dark counterparts, but for a politician his strongest suit was never his prevarication. He supports several anti-alien organizations and his prejudices only help to cement his image as a straight-laced iron-handed leader._

She wondered for a moment why she had been so stupid as to not read the information on all five of the suspects and instead start with the crazy droid manufacturer who had lost his daughter.

_His only major known contact with Revan and Malak was when they came before the Committee as both Jedi and Sith. Sakh only voted for arming them as Sith. Private meetings may have taken place, but anything beyond that is speculation. _

This one sounded impulsive and brash. She could only see the leaner one she had been battling, feel the strength behind his attacks like a wall of force threatening to push right through her lightsaber as if it were only made of...well, light. He was Sakh.

Katrina scanned down the datapad.

_Little is known on Abbas, as he is one of the senior members of the Committee and is well versed in hiding his personal vices and beliefs. Perhaps one of the most interesting rumors surrounding him is that he was once a Jedi-in-training, but his Master died somehow and Abbas abandoned the Force for the political arena. Whether this rumor holds any truth or not, in any case it did not help Abbas to be sympathetic when the Jedi came requesting Anelli's help in the Mandalorian War. Neither did he support arming Revan and Malak when they returned as Sith, but he was among the politicians personally courted by the duo during their campaign. These meetings made he and others the subject of public scrutiny for many years, but it eventually died down and Abbas has shown no evidence of leaning towards either side. The only reasons to suspect him of an attack are his frequent and sometimes heated clashes with myself-_

"Myself" jumped out from amid all the third person references like a violent curse.

_Phineas, the brother of the former Dark Lord Revan._

So the other, the one that had knocked Dustil aside so easily as if he were a training simulation rather than a flesh and blood person, the one that had called her "a diversion", the one that may have threatened her brother-

"Threatened her brother" seemed so much louder than the rest.

This one was Abbas. And he was the master; she didn't need the Force to tell her that. His experience, history, and the way he had fought was enough. He hadn't been the one to break their silence- that had been Sakh. Sakh was the apprentice.

Katrina turned and wandered back towards the center of the ship, rubbing her temples.

A hiss of pain echoed from the small sickbay, and she paused around the corner, watching as Juhani tended to Dustil's burned arm.

_Must've been a close call_, she thought, eying the blistering red scorch from a distance.

"You did well, Padawan," Juhani murmured softly to the younger Onasi. He nodded dumbly, staring at a vacant spot on the floor.

Juhani studied him for a moment, still half clad in the old Sith uniform. The jacket was flung in the corner as if Dustil had shed himself of it at the first opportunity.

"Your thoughts are troubled, Dustil," she added.

"I felt like...something kept telling me I was on the wrong side, and even when I wanted to turn back something else told me that was the wrong side too." His voice was low, and Katrina hung back in the shadows, aware that it was hard for him to admit this even to his master.

"Don't you remember what it was like to have that much power, Master? What it was like to be able to make everyone sorry for what they had done to you?"

She could feel Juhani's own struggles threatening to throw the calm and composed Cathar off balance.

"Did it ever really make them sorry, Padawan?"

Dustil shook his head slowly.

"Master..." Katrina heard his voice crack. "I saw them...and I saw myself."

She accepted for a moment the one and only benefit of having no memories beyond waking up on the _Endar Spire_: Dustil had no such convenient escape.

_Sakh's private quarters within Fornia are rarely used. The members of the Committee have suspicions, but no real idea on where he spends his time off duty. __Abbas has several private estates on the planet. His most frequently used one lies near the city of Delre to the north of Fornia. Delre was once a metropolis and a major hotspot for ore-bearing rock, but the mining ventures there have since dried up and it has become something of a ghost town. _

_Three..._

The third one she could not explain. He was a Force user, but carried no weapon. She could only surmise that Abbas and Sakh were beginning a Sith base on Anelli, and it was one of their followers.

But there was only one way to know. And she was out of time and other options.

Katrina wandered back to the cockpit.

"There should be a relatively quiet settlement known as Delre to the north."

"All but abandoned except for one somewhat large estate," Bastila replied, looking up from the navigation system.

She could feel the Jedi's own exhaustion, but her mind was still doggedly probing Katrina's, looking for reasons and explanations that Katrina did not feel like discussing. She pushed her out of her thoughts so roughly that Bastila almost physically reacted.

"Delre it'll be then."


	37. Chapter 37

_This is probably not a good idea_.

It was her first thought upon stepping off the gangplank of the _Hawk_ and striding forward, only to stumble over her own aching feet.

"What are you doing?" Bastila had murmured from where she sat curled up on her bunk, watching as Katrina tightened her boots and tunic.

"Brewing Tarisian ale."

Bastila sighed heavily.

"You aren't seriously intending on heading out _now_?"

"_Perhaps the Council was right." She sighed heavily. Sometimes she wanted to rip Malak's spineless and doubting jaws off._

Katrina stood, putting her hands on her hips and staring back at the Jedi.

_Malak is dead, and Bastila is not Malak. And I am not Revan, _she reminded herself.

"We have only just emerged from a battle in which we have assumed that the two Sith were Abbas and Sakh," Bastila continued, "Without even knowing how to distinguish the two. There was also another that we cannot identify. For all we know, we may be walking straight into a Sith stronghold!"

"The idea of a trap didn't seem to phase you when Haytham sent us that cordial invitation."

"Regardless of any kind of suspicions," Bastila forced through her teeth, "Is it logistically wise to go straight into another battle while exhausted and injured from the last?"

She searched for their bond, found it, and twisted until she felt pain.

"We are going to end this, Bastila. That's what the Council has charged us with, and that's what we're going to do."

And now, as a hot wind swept over her face, she thought of how liberally she had interpreted the Council's instructions.

_At least I'm following them_, she reminded herself.

Abbas's private estate lay sprawling to the North. She could make out the tiny figures of protocol and assault droids scurrying around it in an endless circle. The estate was sparsely appointed on its exterior: The ruins of an abandoned ore mine stood directly behind it, a tall, crumbling structure that had lost its man-made apparatus long ago. A long tunnel led from the abandoned mine to the back of Abbas' estate.

Katrina smirked. _I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out to be his secret Sith headquarters._

"Is it us marching against the armies of a politician, or would you happen to have another plan for surprising these Sith?" Canderous said, coming up beside her.

"Right now I just want a better look at what we're dealing with."

_And, should the opportunity arise, to kill both of them and head on home._

The Mandalorian nodded without another word, standing still for a moment as if to catch the scent of their enemies.

Katrina found that if she stared long enough at the battle-hardened man she had come to respect all the more in the past few weeks for his level-headed leadership and silent support, his sharp features seemed to move closer to the scruffy ones she was achingly familiar with.

She allowed herself to pretend he was Carth only for a moment.

The moment passed, and she began to walk across the red earth towards Abbas's estate.

"I'm moving the Hawk off a few kilometers," Mission's voice transmitted clearly through the communicator, even though the roar of the ship and the subsequent gust of wind its movement created would have told her that anyways. "T3 says he's got HK up and running again, and other than a nasty droid hangover, he's good to help me out."

"Be careful, huh?" Katrina answered back. Zaalbar grunted good-naturedly behind her at the likelihood of that.

The closer they came to the estate, the more the droids milling around it seemed to take interest. She folded her arms behind her, pausing as a pair approached her.

A protocol droid followed by an assault counterpart. She raised an eyebrow. _If diplomacy fails, there's always death._

"These are private grounds, sentient. You are unauthorized to be here."

First instinct was to draw her lightsaber and slice through it like tissue.

That would, however, mean that every other droid out on the property would have to be chopped up in turn. While a small army of droids was by no means a formidable opponent, it probably wasn't wise to draw any more attention to herself than she already had.

Second instinct was to lie.

"I realize this may be an intrusion on your master's privacy, but I have a critical and urgent matter to discuss with Committee Member Abbas."

If a droid was not capable of looking skeptical, this one did a remarkably good imitation of it.

"This is highly irregular, sentient. The master would not communicate confidential messages of state through a band of renegades."

Abbas had programmed these droids well. She tried to ignore the sense of admiration she always had for someone who used their brain as well as their power.

"We are representatives of the Jedi Council. We have been investigating Anellian involvement in crimes against the Republic. We are here under the authority of the Committee itself."

The droid took a moment to process it. His assault partner looked them up and down as if it were only a matter of time before he got the order for termination and was looking for the most fleshy, unprotected parts.

"While you are clearly identifiable Jedi, sentient, there is nothing to identify your presence as a mandate from Anelli's governing body."

Katrina reached into her pack, drawing out the datapad from Phineas.

"This authorizes my presence in any city or district on the planet as sanctioned by the Committee. It's signed by one of the senior members, Committee Member Phineas."

She watched the droid scan the signature, hoping he didn't have the further aptitude to search the rest of the datapad and find information incriminating his master in the attack.

"The authorization is legal. You are permitted entry, sentient. Please restrict your search to the public areas of the master's estate, or you will be subject to arrest and possible charges."

Katrina slipped the datapad back in her bag, sighing in relief as the pair of droids turned and continued their tandem patrol.

"Handy tool to have, that brother of yours," Canderous commented, beginning to stride towards the building.

He would be her relation to everything it seemed; on Anelli, at least.

A large entrance stood straight in front of them. To the sides, Katrina noted two small private entrances.

The large one would be public and no one would pay them any heed if they entered that way. On the other hand, Abbas would be notified that much more quickly (if he was there at all) that they were inside.

The private would be, well, more private. But it would set off a small droid battle, not to mention any security systems Abbas undoubtedly had in place.

The wrong choice might even get her captured again. It might even lose her whatever small chance she had to catch both Sith off guard.

She walked towards the larger. Another protocol droid nodded in greeting.

"I have been instructed to provide you with a tour of the master's estate should you wish it, sentient."

_I might as well be house hunting for all the estate tours I've gotten lately._

* * *

"...the master has been influential in helping to bring interstellar culture to Anelli, as evidenced by his wide collection of art ranging from planets on the Outer Rim to those as distant as Coruscant..." 

Evidently the droning protocol droid was so caught up in his own prepared speeches that he hadn't noticed Katrina and her companions whirling around every corner with their weapons drawn.

Katrina glanced around warily, lowering her blade slightly upon entering another empty room.

_Maybe Abbas isn't here._

She bit her lip. He _had_ to be here.

_Maybe he and Sakh are long gone by now._

This probably was the least likely place he would go. Surely he would know that she had ways of figuring out where his hideaways were. Surely he knew that they needed an out of the way place to hide while authorities searched for them in Fornia.

He and Sakh were politicians, just as her brother Phineas was: Surely they knew he was her brother? Surely they knew she would have been in contact with him?

She paused and swallowed hard. And if they knew all that, wouldn't they be after him this very instant?

_There is no momentary panic, there is no uncertainty._

She would stay calm; she would not go charging out of here and back to Fornia, to deliver herself into the hands of well-meaning captors and to damn her brother to further political ruin.

"_You're still good at changing the subject." _

"_You're still good at dragging us back to it," he replied without missing a beat. _

_She missed him. She realized it, trying desperately to ignore it. _

If they wanted him dead, he would be dead by now. There was little she could do about that.

A hand grasped her arm. She tensed and followed it with her eyes until she found the face it belonged to.

Juhani squeezed in lieu of a smile. Katrina nodded, standing up straight and following the droid.

_And if they haven't killed him yet, or if they have him in their clutches, the best thing I can do is wander around here until I find that information or them._

"...I am sure it is common knowledge that the master has an illustrious career in politics, and it is further evidenced by his many honorary titles and awards from-"

"Is Abbas close with any members of the Committee personally?" Bastila demanded, only another of the many questions she had been grilling the droid with since they entered.

Although verbose, the droid was also obviously programmed by a politician; it had hedged its way around each and every one of Bastila's point-blank questions.

"The master has been on the Committee for over fifty years. He is close with all its members. He has been involved in mentoring and bolstering the careers of several up and coming politicians who have now risen to their highest positions from his sterling guidance-"

"Anyone in specific?" Bastila prodded.

"By the name of Sakh, maybe?" Dustil added from where he stood in the corner, lightsaber idling in his hand as he examined one of Abbas's decorations.

"The master has indeed helped several of the Committee's most important members to reach their current positions. The master endorsed Committee Member Sakh during elections, and has been a sponsor for Committee Member Phineas since his entry into the political circles-"

So he had betrayed not only his fellow Committee member, but a senior Committee member as well. Not only a fellow politician, a co-worker and colleague, but also a formermentor and possibly a friend.

They had entered an office. It couldn't have been Abbas's- that would never be included on a public tour. But it had a computer terminal all the same, and she headed straight for it.

_There is no fear. There is only absolute certainty that something will have changed before I board that ship again._

"...if you will notice the collection of Manaan murals to your left..." the droid droned on. The others kept it happily occupied; Canderous and Zaalbar edged out towards the doors, keeping an eye on things.

Katrina furrowed her brow. Slicing the computer of a Committee member was, as she had expected, not as easy as slicing the codes for a jail cell on a Sith ship.

"You're not bypassing the right ones," Dustil hissedin her ear.

"I think I can handle slicing a computer, _Padawan,_" She hissed back.

_There is no irritation, there is only the absolute certainty-_

He exhaled angrily.

"If you could, you wouldn't be doing it wrong, _Revan_."

_There is no desire to break his arrogant little neck._

"Excuse me, sentient, but I'm afraid that computer terminal and its contents are strictly off limits," the protocol droid called out. Katrina ignored him, continuing to furiously slice around the securities and encryptions.

"I feel obliged to warn you, sentient, that further attempts to retrieve this information will result in your arrest in violation of Section 247.446 in Anellian law, and you will be subject to formal charges and a trial. Further attempts after this warning will result in termination-"

She motioned vaguely towards the droid with a wave of her arm.

"With pleasure," Bastila muttered, slicing straight through it. The droid's face froze in that same expression of slight worry and perplexity before its body crumpled in two pieces to the ground.

"Juhani, check for any signal that went out with the destruction of that droid,"Katrina murmured up from the terminal. It beeped indignantly from another failed attempt.

Dustil snorted impatiently.

"Here, let me," he said, brusquely shoving his way next to her.

_There is no more patience; there is only this boy shoving _me _out of the way._

Her hand was around his wrist so fast it seemed that it had always been attached to him. His palm had begun to turn white before she even realized she was squeezing.

Dustil stared at her. She stared back.

"Padawan," Juhani said slowly.

Dustil wrenched himself free of her grip and backed towards Juhani.

Katrina could feel his hatred at the back of her neck, his anger on his shoulder telling him to pull out his lightsaber, it would be so easy to just slice her head clean off her shoulders-

She ignored it. Juhani would deal with it. She could already hear the Cathar's soft murmuring behind her.

With a satisfying beep of false recognition, the terminal yielded.

"There appears to be no connection between this droid and the rest in the estate," Bastila said distractedly, leaning forward to read over Katrina's shoulder.

_Probably so any Sith in a bad mood can toast whichever droid is irritating him without setting off a household alarm._

"It looks as though Abbas once had a rather large mining industry," the Jedi added.

The majority of what she had hacked into were old invoices and bills of state- a sort of computerized filing cabinet.

"But any documents pertaining to it stop around two or three years ago," Katrina replied.

She thought of the collapsed mine that had led suspiciously to the estate. _It can't possibly be that easy._

"Isn't that around the time you and Malak made your little trip to this planet?" Canderous said from where he stood near the door.

She tried to remember pushing the two politicians towards darkness, but all she could see was herself and Malak seething after their rejection by the Committee.

"So you're saying that after going dark this Abbas guy just decided to blow up his mine and turn it into his own secret lair? Sounds a little too much like the holovids we used to watch as kids." Dustil's voice was tentative, but a clenched wrist apparently wasn't enough to make him totally lose his tongue.

_Three unread messages._

The words caught her eye. She moved to open them.

"Very often, Padawan, the supposed power and brilliance of the Sith stops short with their overwhelming arrogance. The Sith believe themselves to be so immortal, so unstoppable that their over-confidence leads them to simplistic and trite plans, such as this one."

She sometimes didn't understand how Juhani could be so patient, so willing to explain the basics over and over to a Padawan who had experienced them first-hand and still could not comprehend them.

The first one was an old message of thanks from the Anellian Environmentalists Consortium. She furrowed her brow in irritation and hurried past it.

_There are always two, Master._

Katrina read so furiously that it took a moment or so to register that the message was simply five words.

_Master; a Sith or Jedi title._

She wondered that this message hadn't been long deleted or encrypted. Probably too short to be made into anything incriminating.

That is, unless you were a Sith or a Jedi yourself.

The last message was just as maddeningly short:

_There are three. Sakh would do well to remember it._

One Master, two apprentices..._too many cooks in the kitchen. _And it sounded as though Sakh had been beginning to feel it around the time he had sent the message to his Master.

The other apprentice was in all probability the unarmed one. Fine. If she found him quickly and dealt with him quicker still, the battle would be even.

"I agree with you, Master, but I still think it's too simple. Sith _are _arrogant, but they aren't stupid either. There has to be something else they're hiding there, some kind of upper hand-"

Dustil stopped abruptly as Katrina began to charge out of the room.

Not enough for the Committee, not enough for the Republic or the Senate, but certainly enough for the Jedi. Enough to threaten them with, enough to justify going after them.

Enough to justify killing them, when it came to that.


	38. Chapter 38

The tunnel leading to the collapsing mine was lodged far back into the reaches of Abbas's estate, like some forgotten closet.

Katrina moved seamlessly through the halls leading up to it, reaching out now and then to slash through a hapless droid in her way.

A large door sealed the entrance. Someone had attempted to make it blend into the rest of the décor and placed a few pieces of furniture around it. She hesitated for a moment.

Obviously this was not the way Abbas and Sakh entered the mine. It hadn't been used since presumably the tunnel was collapsed.

_But that should work to my advantage._

She readied her lightsaber, motioning for Bastila to follow.

"Wait," Juhani said,pressing the door controls that had been obstructed by some decorative plant.

The doors hissed open without a noticeable creak or groan anywhere. A cloud of long-settled dust spewed lazily out and rested on their heads. Bastila began coughing loudly.

"Well, if they don't see us they'll definitely hear us," Canderous said tersely, brushing a large piece of red colored ash off the end of his blaster. The Jedi shot him a murderous glance.

"It looks unstable," the Mandalorian added."It might not even lead to the mine."

Zaalbar shook himself vigorously, sending a new dust storm through the air.

"There's only one way to find out," Katrina replied, watching the dust fly off her upper lip. She held out her lightsaber, moving slowly into the tunnel.

The green, blue, yellow, and red blades moving through the corridor cast an odd prism on the walls around them. Windows that had once looked out over the flat red plains surrounding them were now broken, large crimson boulders protruding through the ceiling and windowpanes.

"Still structurally sound, at least." Dustil's voice echoed off the walls and down into the dark distance.

Small rocks crumbled down from the ceiling. Katrina groped wildly for the wall. The vibrations connected with her fingers and she stood there, tense and frozen until the shaking stopped.

"Want to say that again?" she snapped.

Dustil set his jaw stubbornly at the ground. His lips seemed stuck forming the word "Still..."

From behind her Zaalbar growled something unintelligible.

"Revan," the Mandalorian's voice called out, half amused and half irritated, "tell this overgrown dust rag to learn how to walk."

She wasn't an authority onShyriiwook despite understanding most of it, but she was reasonably sure Zaalbar's reply was some kind of heated expletive.

"There's a lot of debris on the floor," Bastila murmured. Something clattered near Katrina's feet. The sound was eerily familiar.

Katrina paused and bent down, holding her lightsaber towards the ground.

An alien skull stared back at her.

She recoiled, whirling around in the darkness and knocking a large piece of debris onto the ground. They all wavered in the air for a moment until the resulting tremors stopped.

The ominous sound of the door they had just come through slamming shut echoed perfectly down the tunnel.

It was followed by a pretty close contender for the most frightening sound Katrina had ever heard: the cool hiss of probably poisonous gas being released.

_It couldn't possibly have been this easy._

All of them took a deep exhale before holding their breath and sprinting towards the end of the tunnel.

There were dead bodies and debris still blocking their path, and Katrina raced to hurdle over and around them.

She felt her lungs expanding against her chest, and she concentrated on the end of the tunnel.

_You don't need air, you need safety. You don't need a rest, you need to catch those Sith._

The thought of the Sith made her angry, and her anger made her faster. She finally saw a light shining through the other side of the tunnel- a half sealed and mostly broken door.

Katrina flung her lightsaber towards it. Parts came flying off, but nowhere near enough room to hurdle through.

_Either I'm going to run out of air or room to run._

She desperately flung it forward again. Half of the door fell through, off to whatever was on the other side. Just enough room for a Wookiee to wriggle through.

Katrina squirmed quickly through the opening, turning around to make sure the rest got through safely.

Juhani and Dustil followed, tumbling onto the floor and panting heavily. Zaalbar roared furiously as he fought to get through. His hair snagged on the jagged edges of the doorframe until, with a few painful ripping sounds, broke free.

The tunnel was still wracked with tremors from their running and jostling of every piece of debris in their way. She struggled to see through the clouds of red dust coming out of the hole.

As clearly as any kind of image, the bond they shared gave her a perfect vision of Bastila as she stumbled over a large bulkhead and fell to the ground.

Her mouth opened in an involuntary expression of surprise and pain, and Katrina saw clearly the look of horror on her face as her lungs betrayed her Jedi training and inhaled anyways.

_"Believe me, I don't find the idea of being joined to you enjoyable in any way."_

_She exchanged a rising eyebrow with Carth from where he sat a few feet away in the pilot's seat._

_"Thanks a lot." The Jedi's face turned red for a moment, and she broke into a nervous smile._

_Somehow, something inside her always felt better when she could bring Bastila away from lofty Jedi Council Representative or haughty Experienced Padawan mode. _

_It felt like a bond might actually exist, rather than suspicious visions and a mandate from the Council. _

_And there was something else, some kind of overwhelming desire to appear smarter and better than the Jedi, even though she had never been jealous..._

Katrina reached out calmly and clenched her fist. She heard Bastila hacking and gasping for air, but she kept her hand completely steady.

Power slipped around her fingertips like seductive Twi'lek dancers. She had no desire to, no desire to at all, but were she to make the most miniscule of movements between her fingers, she could easily kill her-

With a final grunt, Canderous shoved Bastila through the opening and stumbled out, sliding ungracefully to the floor.

The Jedi rolled over, her face somewhat blue, staring at her with wide eyes.

Katrina suddenly realized her hand was still up and quickly shoved it down with the other. Bastila fell back, inhaling deeply.

"Smart move," Canderous breathed.

She heard Dustil exhale in relief behind her.

"You must learn trust, Padawan," Juhani panted, moving to Bastila's side. "Had Revan not intervened, Bastila's natural involuntary functions would have taken in more of the toxic gases, and she would not have survived."

_You cannot control it, _she struggled to remind herself. _Although you cheated death this time by giving in, you know better than anyone that you cannot control it. __You cannot. __You. Can. Not-_

"Revan," Bastila croaked, trying to push herself back up and failing. "You must continue on without me. I will get myself back to the _Hawk_ and heal. As soon as I am able, I will rejoin you."

"And how were you intending on doing that? Flying? If you and that old man are any example, the Jedi are bull stubborn sometimes," Canderous answered sharply, hefting his blaster over his shoulder and helping Bastila up.

"I am _fine_," the Jedi forced through her teeth, wrenching herself free of Canderous' grip and nearly falling over in the process. "I only require some specialized medpacs. I will rejoin you."

Bastila stood wavering, her teeth gritted and her face red. Katrina watched her for a moment.

"Zaalbar, get her back to the _Hawk_. Catch up with us again if you can." The Wookiee nodded breathlessly.

The Jedi stared back at Katrina.

_"No, I think you've got it backwards. I just rescued you. Now's the part where you thank me."_

_The rest of the race patrons had fled long ago, and it seemed a bit surreal to Katrina to be standing here with only the dead bodies of Brejik and his thugs, arguing over whether she had saved this arrogant piece of work or not._

_The Jedi Bastila raised an eyebrow and gave a small indignant harrumph. _

_"Save me? Well, as far as rescues go, this is a pretty poor example."_

Bastila finally turned and followed Zaalbar along the red rocks until they disappeared into darkness.

The mine was far less decrepit inside than out. It resembled the Fornia Demolitions plant they had investigated on their arrival.

Only this plant was silent and empty. Long metal walkways led over fathomless caverns and down into large working platforms.

"The Sith probably know we're here. They're trying to lure us somewhere," Dustil said.

She watched as a pebble she had bumped with her foot rolled off the edge of the metal walkway and went spiraling into the abyss below. She listened carefully for the sound of it hitting anything on the way down and heard nothing but eerie silence.

She didn't like this. And she didn't like how Dustil always seemed to remind her why she didn't like something.

"They'll lure us there all the easier if you keep talking."

The walkways were well maintained and thankfully gave away no tell-tale creaks or whines as they padded over them.

They led to one cavern, and then to another. There was no sign of the Sith.

_They're probably long gone. They're probably on their way to Fornia-_

No. There was low level emergency lighting in place, the plant was pretty much immaculate.

_To find Phineas and make him pay-_

They were here, she knew it. The goose bumps forming on her arms and legs were not the product of the slightly drafty temperature or the general creepiness of the place. The dark side was so prevalent she could almost taste its acidic sweetness.

_And then to Telos, perhaps to finish what they started-_

Her throat tightened. Enough.

"Revan."

Katrina paused, turning around to Juhani. The Cathar stood completely still, watching her calmly. Dustil's eyes roamed from Master to former Dark Lord, narrowed and skeptical.

"Do you not feel it?" Juhani said, glancing at her.Katrina struggled through the mire that was the dark side, looking for something concrete.

"I don't know about Jedi feelings, but I definitely _hear_ something familiar," Canderous said, gesturing towards the next cavern.

It was the unmistakable sound of one lightsaber smashing ruthlessly against another.

The walkway they were currently on ended in a sort of balcony overlooking the next bottomless cave. Katrina crept towards the edge of it, keeping low to the floor.

They would, of course, sense one of them or all of them within a matter of moments.

_There is no excitement, there is no adrenaline, there is no elation._

A large platform lay beneath them, with a ladder leading up to an exit or entrance from yet another cavern beyond this one.

But Katrina was not so interested in the layout of the metal catwalks as she was in the two Sith below her.

They no longer wore masks, and for the first time (although not entirely clear) she could make out individual features.

The leaner one she had battled before, presumably Sakh, had the look of someone who might have lived his entire life in manual labor.

"Is this a test?" His face was solid and red, though Katrina wasn't sure if that was from the reflection of his blade or the caverns. His hiss to his sparring partner echoed up off the cavern walls and down into the abyss, as though he was chanting it over and over again.

She stayed perfectly still, watching as he now extended a second lightsaber from his other hand and slashed both in a perfect downward arc against the other.

His eyes were deep set, and with the many shadows cast on his sweaty and clenched features, he looked as though there were large dark circular markings around both his eyes.

Katrina tried to think of the Committee, of the voices she had heard, of the dark features she had tried idly to place with each voice.

"_Revan?" This voice was different now. The calm, resolved voice that had spoken before was replaced with a gritty one that said her name like it was some unsavory dish._

Sakh whirled around, barely blocked by the other. Even from a few meters up, she could see his large toothy grin.

"You know I am the stronger, Master. Do you need this pointless exercise to prove it?"

Even with the gritty voice, the sunken eyes and thick skin, he was still only the apprentice. There was a master, and he was Abbas.

"Small words, apprentice. You and I both know that your claims to be the strongest do not entirely measure up to your record." The other that was sparring with Sakh took two slow steps forward, striking back with a ferocity that was not present in his deathly composed voice.

Abbas was shorter, but entirely less solid. His white hair shone bright and shocking off his slightly yellow and sickly looking skin.

"If you would stop indulging him-" Sakh stumbled for a moment, caught off guard by Abbas's sudden Force wave.

"It is necessary. Look at how we have manipulated both already. Your hastiness will be your undoing- both in this arena and the other." While apprentice had the history and not the look of tyrannical and prejudiced behavior, the master had just the opposite. A long scar wrinkled up the side of his face as he turned and grimaced, turning off his lightsaber and holding a wrist in pain.

Sakh followed him, lightsabers still blazing.

"Shouldn't we-" Dustil whispered, immediately silenced by Juhani's intense stare.

But it was enough. Abbas's head cocked to one side so abruptly and at such a severe angle it looked as though Sakh had snapped his master's neck.

"You may have your chance, apprentice," he murmured with a laugh, light and airy like a joke told over dinner. "You may have your chance."

Canderous whistled quietly to her, even though she knew he was hidden behind the rocky alcove. Juhani and Dustil had disappeared.

She slowly stood. Sakh and Abbas's eyes roamed up towards the balcony. She heard that light little laugh again.

Sakh flung his lightsaber up towards the balcony, ripping easily through the supports holding it to the end of the walkway above the Sith.

_React. Jedi react._

She found the state of mind to push herself off the collapsing structure at the last minute to make sure she landed on the platform rather than hurtling along with the falling balcony into the pit. Her landing was not as prepared however, and she went crashing to the metallic floor.

She pushed herself up, watching Sakh with wide eyes, as if she could sense him better if she could only see him better. He crept towards her, crossing his sabers in front of him over and over as if she were an animal he was getting ready to slaughter.

_Concentrate. You will not lose your focus this time. You will not be distracted by an unarmed apprentice. You will not lose. You will not fail._

_You are Revan._

"Well, Revan." Her name (not hers, but Hers) slid out from Abbas's teeth as if he wanted to savor her like some exotic dish. "I do apologize for our lack of preparation. You really might have notified me of your arrival."

Sakh lunged for her. She dodged it easily, making sure to keep Abbas in her eyesight.

"I do enjoy our little meetings, Committee Member Abbas," she breathed heavily.

Abbas smiled. Sakh clenched his teeth and swung again. She blocked him again, stepping backwards to avoid being trapped between them.

"Very good. Perhaps not merely a diversion, after all. Your knowledge of our identities still gives you no advantage, however. As a former politician, you must realize the very...stupid position you have gotten yourself into, don't you?"

"I suppose neither of you would care if your political careers went crashing and burning once Anelli finds out you're both the scum of the galaxy. And Sith to boot."

Katrina found that she had been backed against a wall. She turned and ran up it, vaulting over to the other side of Sakh, trying to keep her words nonchalant and failing with the exertions of battle.

Wherever the distraction was, he wasn't here. _Only a matter of time then._

"Forgive me, Revan, but aren't you being a tad obtuse?"

Sakh clenched his teeth and slammed both lightsabers up against hers in a dead cross, trying to force them straight past her blade and into her.

"I have not murdered countless millions across thousands of systems," Abbas continued."I have not attempted a galactic takeover or tried to bring about the fall of the Republic."

She shook with the effort. She bent further and further back under the weight.

Abbas strolled over towards them, bending over her, his face only inches from hers.

Katrinacould feel his hot breath sticky on her neck.

"I have not broken into at least three private homes and killed three people in cold blood, not to mentioned infiltrating an entire corporate headquarters and massacring the entire security staff."

_But I have not tried to blow myself and Carth up into tiny flaming pieces. I did not put him in that medical facility. That was you._

Katrina shoved Sakh off just in time to whirl around and block the blade of Abbas. The rising Sith master stared at her through the red and green of their weapons with a cordial smile.

"Do all Sith fight like cowards with illegal hand grenades launched at ships out of nowhere?" she shot at him.

"Do all Jedi delude themselves into thinking that a kill is anymore noble and justified if it's done face to face rather than over a parsec or two?"

"Do you think if I die, you'll become the next Sith Lord? You'd better ask Malak about that."

_A Jedi does not revel in his kills. A Jedi never kills for pleasure, but only in self-defense. A Jedi does not glory in battle, but rather seeks for peaceful end to conflict._

"The next Sith Lords are already vying for their places, Revan. You have long since ceased to be in that category."

He side-swiped her and she reached out with her hand, succeeding in pulling his lightsaber out of his grip for only a second before he wrenched it back.

"Then why try and kill me?" she snapped, sounding far more wounded than she intended.

"Taking it personally, eh?" Sakh jeered."I suppose you have a right to."

The apprentice/politican sounded close. Somewhere behind her. Her attention was confused for a moment; whether to focus on the fight in front or the potential one behind.

Instead, her ears focused on a very different sound- that of the hum of a lightsaber, and a soft purring sort of sound that was maybe a mixture of a weapon's noise and a calming breath.

Juhani came out of the shadows as though she were part of them and had only assumed the form of a Cathar for a moment. She leapt seamlessly between Sakh and Katrina.

Sakh was distracted enough that he almost missed Dustil sneaking up behind him. Almost.

"A Padawan and a Cathar?" Sakh laughed, pronouncing 'padawan' wrong.

"You keep strange company these days, Revan." Abbas smiled again, his teeth immaculately white. "I think you'll be more interested in the company _I_ keep."

Katrina watched the blaster shots explode from Canderous's hiding place and followed them to where they bounced harmlessly off the rocks around the top of the stairs.

Red light shone in from the next cavern entrance. It cast a larger-than-life shadow of the figure standing on the landing up against the wall behind him. The figure ducked carefully and cautiously around the blaster shots, never in a panic but always calculated, precise.

The new figure drew Canderous's blaster away from him. It clattered harmlessly on the step in front of the Sith at the top of the stairs. Katrina heard the Mandalorian swear loudly.

Abbas struck a quick blow towards her abdomen, too close for comfort. She made a clumsy stumble out of the way.

Sakh let out a yell, undistinguishable as rage or amusement or excitement. He swung both lightsabers out in a wide arc, one towards Dustil on his left and the other towards Juhani on his right.

Dustil somersaulted backwards to avoid it, only to find himself continuing to slide until he was almost at the edge of the platform. Katrina could see the figure's hands at work, his head rotating around to find which one to attack next, his face masked except for a small slit that looked like only darkness when coupled with the shadows the light cast on him.

_Three_.

It was the third Sith, the second apprentice.


	39. Chapter 39

Katrina allowed herself to waste a few seconds gawking at the motionless black figure, taking in his flat palms wavering serenely at his sides

Too long. She let out a surprised cry as Abbas's blade nearly shaved against her ear. She heard the hissing and popping of stray hairs that had fallen out of her braid; now burnt and smoldering against her scalp.

"You should not have sought me out, Revan," Abbas said.

Katrina struck back with an unintelligible growl. The rising Sith master only smiled again.

"You won't survive to regret it."

She was thrown off balance, both arms flung back as if by a great wind.

And she did not have to cast an annoyed glare towards the top of the stairs to know that it had been the second apprentice interfering in their fight. Abbas reached back to swing towards her exposed midsection.

_I have to get to him_.

Katrina clenched the hilt of Abbas's lightsaber in her free hand, whirling around to smash an elbow across his face.

He stumbled clumsily backwards, swearing loudly. His hand came away from his nose covered in blood.

His gaze began to look familiar, like every other Sith, like Sakh, like Malak- empty and beyond reason.

She shivered. This was the time to fear the Sith- when they passed beyond anger, beyond passion; when they because blank variables capable of anything.

Sakh came out of nowhere at her, and she didn't know if it was the sight of his master's blood that had set him off or merely a desire to prove himself over the other apprentice still standing at the top of the stairs.

One of his arms bore down on her while the other swiped methodically at her lower torso. Juhani leapt behind him, forcing him to break his saber lock with Katrina and turn to fight the Cathar.

Juhani's yellow eyes followed every miniscule movement of Sakh's lightsabers, never becoming distracted by the possible motions of the Sith behind her.

_I have to get to him_.

She flipped over both Sakh and Juhani, sprinting towards the stairs. Abbas slipped seamlessly past his battling apprentice to meet her at the foot of the metal flight.

Katrina suddenly became aware of Dustil's heavy breathing right behind her.

"You can't defeat him," she hissed.

The younger Onasi scoffed, moving past her and engaging Abbas.

_Insolent brat. Deceitful braggart child with no respect._

Both were occupied. She went tearing up the staircase.

The second apprentice was quick. With one hand he reached out to try and knock her back down.

She flung her lightsaber at him. He caught it easily, casting it away from him as though it were a set grenade. Katrina leapt to catch it before it went toppling over the edge.

_This is a great risk you're taking._

She felt much angrier than she should have over a simple Force shove. She struggled to control it.

She heard the exertions of Juhani rising from soft exhales to small exclamations with each parry or thrust.

_I have to get to him_.

Katrina reached out her hand, sending Canderous's stolen blaster hurtling towards the second apprentice.

The Sith snatched it out of the air clumsily and seemed caught off guard for a moment. Then he pointed it straight at Katrina and began firing.

_Brilliant, Katrina._

Inaccurate, awkward shots that showed this second apprentice had barely touched a weapon in his life. But it was the blaster of a Mandalorian, and any one of those shots would kill her.

She leapt down the staircase and back towards Sakh and Abbas.

Sweat poured down Juhani's face, and she almost mistook it for blood amid the red surroundings. Sakh seemed to have an infinite amount of energy and power, never stopping his assault for an instant. He bore down mercilessly with both lightsabers on the Jedi, two red blades colliding with the light blue as if trying to bend it like glass in a fire.

She quickly ducked around Sakh, blocking another one of his attacks on the Cathar.

Juhani sighed gratefully, narrowing her eyes and gritting her teeth as she came back towards Sakh.

_Maybe we are rushing into a war that doesn't need to be fought_.

Sakh spun around as if lost in some tribal dance and his lightsabers merely happened to be attached to him. Nonetheless, Katrina had to dodge them as they swung wide near her.

Too close again. The edge of Sakh's blade slid softly across her side. She shrieked uncharacteristically, slapping her smoldering clothing and wincing as she hit burned flesh.

_Another scar. Carth and I might end up being even by the time I get back._

Thinking of Carth made her think of the accident made her think of who had caused it made her think of how long she had wanted both Sith dead.

She felt anger, whether her anger or Sakh's or Abbas's or Dustil's or even the second apprentice's...she felt it around her, threatening to devour her and dab it's oily lips with a napkin before leaving to effortlessly devour something else.

A low laugh behind them and the sick thud of flesh and bone into rock and metal told what had happened without having to turn around.

Dustil moaned, pushing himself up from the corner he had been flung into like a rag doll by the second apprentice. He fell again and finally got up on the third try, shaking his head vigorously and stalking towards Abbas.

_Foolish boy. Inexperienced Padawan._

His anger was easy to recognize.

Sakh swung for her again. Juhani blocked it tiredly, and Katrina noticed the ugly blistering welt and the blackened clothing across her upper thigh.

Dustil growled exasperatedly. She could hear the rising Sith master's laughter again, echoing off the walls of the cavern.

"_You're going back down there if I have to knock you unconscious and throw you in an escape pod myself." He smirked, and she hated him for it, hated how he had the upper hand and would always have the upper hand as long as she loved his father._

She heard Dustil's wretching and coughing sounds as the second apprentice's tell-tale clenched fist indicated an unresisted Force choke.

"_You need me to like you, and the only way I'm going to do that is if you'll help me." He was trying to bait her with Carth and it only made her hate him more._

Juhani quickly turned and fled towards Abbas. Katrina turned to watch her go, nearly getting struck by Sakh. She turned back towards him, trying to will herself to pay attention.

She would not help him.

"_You can't defeat him," she hissed. The younger Onasi scoffed, moving past her and engaging Abbas._

He had made the choice; he had left Carth on Telos. He was not her responsibility.

She reached up, blocking another of Sakh's strikes.

_Let him pay the price for his mistakes._

The second apprentice attempted to take her lightsaber again. She struggled to hang on, forcing it towards Sakh in an effort to break the other Sith's Force grip.

Sakh's overwhelming anger, his drive to prove to his master that he was stronger than the other at the top of the stairs, was the only thing saving her. His attacks were rage-driven, inaccurate.

The other...the one posted on the catwalks above them like a hunting kath hound- he was the one she was battling.

_How could he believe that she would fall, that she was not every inch as powerful as she appeared? How could he not believe in her?_

She struggled. She could feel it clutching at her skin, slimy and overwhelming. She heard another yell from Dustil, another tired grunt from Juhani.

Katrina turned just in time to see Juhani's blue blade slide smoothly through Abbas's right side.

The Sith gasped, tilting almost a full ninety degrees towards the ground, staring at the Cathar with only annoyance, as if she had spoken out of turn at a Committee meeting.

Sakh seemed momentarily frozen. He stared blankly ahead, over her shoulder to where Abbas was half kneeling, breathing slowly and heavily.

The second apprentice did not waste as much time. His arms raised, ready to counter with something.

Sakh followed suite, and she turned her back on the wounded Abbas to quickly dodge his apprentice's next blow.

_I have to get to him._

Then there was a sound unlike any other she had heard in the battle, a sound that did not belong to a lightsaber or a throat gasping for breath, or even a body being slammed against a wall. This sound was slick and cool, like primordial ooze coming to life. It seeped out, echoing dumbly around her.

The screaming was instantly everywhere, and for a moment she was confused. It seemed the sound had gained in volume, and was now growing into something with its own auditory components, something that could not be controlled.

She felt her skin tingling as though a sudden draft had come through the cavern. The screaming was not in her mind. And it was not unreal.

"_I... I thank you for your support. My outburst was uncalled for, but you did not lash back at me. You are a much better Jedi than I, it would seem."_

Juhani was suddenly on her knees, her head slightly to the side, as if studying some formation within the rocks. Her face was far more flushed than its usual white pallor.

Katrina finally saw the end of a red lightsaber sticking inauspiciously out of her chest.

The screaming that followed next, inarticulate and dissonant, was clearly coming out of her mouth.

With a show of great effort, Abbas pulled his blade back towards him out of the Cathar.

Juhani opened her mouth wide, inhaling deeply. Then she crumpled to the ground, the beads in her hair making tiny tinkling noises against the metal.

As if the sight wasn't enough, now the Force joined in, coursing the headline through her body: Juhani would die.

"_The woman who saved me, who I...I have come to care for, could never go completely to the dark side."_

Words had failed everyone. Abbas made low croaking laughter, falling in jerky movement back onto the railings of the platform. Sakh still stood in position where she had been battling him, panting heavily with an exhilarated smile on his dark face.

Dustil Onasi snarled. She watched his upper lip curl up towards his nostrils and creases that shouldn't have appeared in someone his age shoot out from around his contorted cheekbones.

Katrina watched in horror as he drew his lightsaber straight up in front of him. The blade did not flicker; his hands did not tremble.

There was the son of Carth with a lightsaber in his hands, a dying master in front of him, and a wounded Sith clinging to the railing.

Carth's son, Juhani's Padawan, Dustil Onasi, about to fall. And there would be no second chance.

There was what she was doing and what she was supposed to be doing.

"Dustil!" she screamed. He did not even turn.

_Dustil...Dustil, I don't want to do this._

She ran as fast as she could. She felt her heart rushing to propel her legs as fast as her mind was willing her to go.

_If I failed you son, then it's my failure._

His fists were blazing red from the pain of a thousand cracked knuckles. Blood coursed through his veins towards his forehead and neck. These and the color of his weapon all blended into one giant crimson force ready to spring forth and attack.

_Please don't add to it by becoming part of something evil._

"Dustil, stop!"Katrina roared, tackling him.

_I...I wish I could help you, son. I truly do._

She had underestimated the force of his anger, the force of his memories, the force of _him_.

Dustil growled like a feral animal, freeing himself from her in an instant.

She drew his lightsaber away from him, flinging it far over to the other side of the platform.

Within a second of losing the grip on his own, Juhani's weapon had flown into Dustil's hands and now glowed in front of him as he got closer and closer to its fallen owner and the Sith who had slain her.

_As for whether or not he'll be my son again...I don't know. He's so full of anger and hate...I wasn't expecting him to be like this._

She struggled to her feet, propelling herself towards Dustil.

He had reached Abbas. The Sith looked cruelly up at him, his yellowish skin appearing even more sickly with his wounds.

"Haven't you the strength, Padawan?" he said invitingly, holding his arms out.

"_Calm down Dustil. Your father is only trying to protect you."_

_She felt strange even as she said it, as if she was trying to claim a role she hadn't yet won the rights to. His son narrowed his eyes, staring at her as though he could see every romantic notion she had for his father plainly on her face._

Dustil reached far back with his weapon, preparing to slam it through Abbas, to slice him completely down the middle.

_When she thought of children, she thought of Dustil, who wasn't her child but would soon be as close as she would get. She was afraid of him. She was afraid of Dustil Onasi, the son of the man she loved and barely a man yet himself._

Katrina reached him just in time to catch all the force behind his intended killing blow with her lightsaber.

She held him off. He stumbled backwards somewhat, his blade still touching hers but the strength startled away.

He stared at her, his features strained and his Adam's apple trembling.

_The hatred and anger and fear were still in her and she did not like how that was the only bond she could claim with him. _

"So it's to be you, Revan?" Abbas chuckled in a raspy, dying voice. "No, I will not even give you that pleasure."

Abbas slowly pulled himself up by the railings. He carefully hauled himself over them, to the other side, the side that went straight down into the never-ending blackness of the abandoned mine.

"There are always two, Revan," he murmured with a cruel smile. "Always two."

The rising Sith master and prominent Committee Member Abbas then let go of the railing. Katrina watched until he was no more than a dark shadow growing into a small shadow, and then eclipsed by the infinite shade of the chasm.

His death went through her like a thump on the shoulders. A quick blast of pain, and he was gone as if he had never existed.

Juhani though; she was still a throbbing ache somewhere on the back of Katrina's neck. She rushed to the Jedi's side.

"Juhani..." The Cathar wheezed in response. Katrina grasped her hand tightly.

Dustil knelt clumsily on the other side, his eyes wide and glazed over.

_But thanks to you I have been redeemed. I may yet live to see that dream of mine come true_.

"I am...glad it is you..." Juhani's fingers grasped Katrina's so desperately it almost hurt.

The Cathar's eyes did not reopen. Katrina felt the dull ache explode into her temples and fade away as softly as Juhani's body did, leaving nothing but her clothing and lightsaber now lying harmlessly before Dustil's hands.

The sound of Sakh's sharp inhale brought her out of her reverie.

She looked up and saw the second apprentice still standing calmly at the top of the stairs. She thought of his arm, outstretched and ready to attack.

His arm out, and she had turned to fight Sakh. His arm back, and she had turned to watch Juhani die.

His frozen proud posture and Dustil had begun his steps towards the abyss. She had narrowly stopped Dustil, and still he stood there frozen.

_I have to get to him._

She rose, extending her lightsaber once again.

Sakh turned and fled up the stairs, joining the other Sith on the landing. Katrina exploded into a dead pursuit, tearing up the staircase after both Sith, who fled through the doorway into the next room.

It hadn't led to another cavern as they had thought. A large landing platform stood before her. A small ship sat on the edge of it, big enough for a pilot, a navigator, and a passenger.

They were extremely high up in the mountains. Abbas's estate lay on the far off plains before her like a tiny model. Wind whipped around her, threatening to push her to the edge and toss her off. It threw her sweaty and wild hair in front of her eyes.

She didn't care. Her sight was not what was driving her to grip her lightsaber in both hands, guiding her purposeful steps towards the two Sith.

Sakh and the other apprentice ran wildly towards their ship. The loss of their master seemed to have unnerved them- they looked unorganized and unsure.

Two Sith without confidence. She tossed her lightsaber towards them.

Sakh ducked under his ship, climbing into it and beginning to start it up. He was a few meters or so ahead of his companion, who was not so fast or so lucky.

The second apprentice stumbled against the wind on the landing and his attempted evasion of her attack. He tripped and fell to the ground.

Katrina came closer to him, standing over his long, lean figure, now sprawled on the landing platform.

The Sith wore the same outfit as Abbas and Sakh- dark and formless like a black sack. A mask covered his lower and upper face except for a small slat that exposed only the bridge of his nose and his eyes.

His eyes were hazel.

Katrina held her lightsaber to his neck, loving the way it reflected perfectly off his trembling jugular.

She tensed her fingers, ready to press it further.

_His eyes were hazel._

She felt her lower lip quivering against her teeth. She gazed back at him, seeing no fear in those hazel eyes.

She struggled to realize why those eyes were so familiar, why she felt that she had spent a lifetime seeing them, missing them, trusting them, protecting them.

His body was not sickly thin, nor was it the stocky and muscular build of Abbas or Sakh. _He looked as though a strong wind might blow him over._

Katrinamoved closer, peering into the black fabric of the Sith's mask. She reached out, gripping him by the throat. The Sith grasped her hand, trying desperately to pry it off. Seeing that her hand was obviously immovable, he gripped her arm.

_He gripped her arm, and she felt instantly how right a feeling of camaraderie was with him._

In one smooth motion she grasped the mask over his head. He made no attempt to stop her.

_How this man being her brother seemed to be part of the natural order of the universe._

Her brother, Committee Member Phineas, stared back at her.

_"Some of these individuals are members of the Committee, my long time friends and colleagues." And he was ratting them out for her. He was suddenly her brother again. She let her hand grasp his shoulder and he looked from it to her before continuing._

It was unthinkable; as unthinkable as a son refusing to stay with his father and running off to join the Jedi, as unthinkable as the death of one of her closest friends by the hands of a Sith she had only run into twice.

"_You'll regret it if you don't, if you leave without saying goodbye." She looked up at him. She hadn't told him of the Jedi, of her plans to leave. The hurt and anger from the fact was plain in his eyes, and through the Force._

_"Were you even going to tell me, Revan? Or were you and Malak just going to disappear?" His voice was hard, trembling._

As unthinkable as having a brother she had never known in first place.

_This is my brother Phineas. __This is the third Sith, the second apprentice._

_This is my brother Phineas._

She was frozen in place. Her lightsaber hummed idly above his chest, and he didn't dare to move.

"Phineas." She knew she had tried to mouth his name, that she had attempted to force it through her vocal cords. He showed no reaction, and thus she was unsure if she had actually succeeded in saying it.

_"If I had listened to you then, we might not be having this conversation." Phineas gave her a sardonic smile._

_"If you had listened to me, the reason we wouldn't be having this conversation would be that we were killed or captured by the Mandalorians." She smiled back at him. Everything seemed less severe when around this brother of hers: She didn't feel so much like a genocidal Sith Lord, with another prospective Sith Lord on the make trying to murder her._

For a moment she thought she heard her name, (Hers, not hers), and she stared harder at him, trying to figure out if he had returned her blank identification.

She hesitated too long. Phineas scrambled out from underneath her blade and hurried to Sakh's waiting ship. She watched it take off and retreat into the fast fading Anellian sunset.

She felt empty; no Force, no screaming, no battle, no plan, no rationale. She was again a blank slate waiting to be manipulated; another story waiting to be fashioned.

"_There is no death, Phineas," she said with a knowing smile, "There is only the Force."_

She was again, merely a woman with a lightsaber standing alone.


	40. Chapter 40

_"The Committee has reviewed your request, my Lord."_

_His voice was much less golden than she remembered; it did not bounce off the clean smooth walls of the Committee's chambers, making any further appeals fail before they began._

_She smiled against the cold, smooth surface of her mask, watching the dark form of his hand reach up to rub his eyes or his temples or both._

_Her apprentice stepped forward._

_"Our ship is prepared to accept both weapons and droids should you have both."_

_If Malak could not recognize his mistakes, his awkward social taboos, she was the one to cringe, to absorb the shame he should have felt at being too cocky, at being weak._

_She frowned. Her apprentice's doubts might have changed to over-confidence, his hesitance to hastiness; but her superiority was not any less evident with the red lightsaber he now carried, the veiny white skin that was now his own._

_A Sith never showed the contents of their mind; never allowed their heart to bleed. Certainly not wear both on their sleeves as obviously as Malak did._

_"You will not need to ready any ships, my Lord. The Committee has denied your request."_

_It had been expected, and she did not ask if it had been unanimous or not. _

_His slow and steady breathing was apparent now, rather than silent and assumed. She could already tell he had gone through a war simply to be able to sit here and say tiredly "The Committee has denied your request"._

_She felt Malak's rage. She drank it up, swam in it, savored it coursing through his body._

_But it did not make him more powerful; that she knew, and she clasped her hands behind her back. She was the master, he the apprentice. __His barely contained rage only reminded her of how much stronger hers was._

_"I assure you then, I will remember your decision." Her voice was ice. _

_But only a minor setback. They had no need of Anelli's demolitions, although impressive; their dusty droid side productions, their outdated blasters. Not with the Star Forge at her disposal, at her command._

_She clenched and opened her fist, listening to the satisfying crunch of her glove. At her fingertips._

_The weapon she wanted was not made of steel or red earth._

_Revan turned and left the Committee chambers. She strode easily past the gawking special-interest representatives in the waiting room, past the pale guards that protected the private areas of the government complex._

_"This is a pointless endeavor." Her hands stayed clasped behind her back, and she did not even turn to acknowledge him._

_"Your opinion is not a factor that deserved consideration."_

_"He has never been trained in the ways of the Force. His inclusion is worthless-"_

_"I will decide what is of worth, _apprentice_." His fury was always prevalent; she only ever noticed it now when it neared the breaking point._

_She knew the way he was looking for something to do with his hands, something, anything other than what he truly wanted to do (pull out his lightsaber and lop her arrogant head off, it would be so quick, so easy-)_

_But he was her apprentice. She was the stronger. He would believe her, he would follow her._

_Revan neared the large black doors and knocked._

_He was not prompt. In fact, she stood waiting for at least a full minute, a mistake usually punishable by death._

_She finally heard the thick sliding of the lock._

_He was stalking away from the door as she pushed it open._

_"Have you come to kill me for my opposition?" Her brother sounded hollow; his bravery rehearsed, his articulate speech scripted._

_"No, I haven't come to kill you." Phineas turned, glancing sideways at her, dark circles around his narrowed eyes._

_"What do you ask of me then, oh Dark Lord?" His voice dripped with sarcasm._

_His apartments were less clean than she remembered them. She wove between the furniture, pausing to run a finger through a layer of dust on the table._

_"You seem to forget the Revan at the end of that title. You're still my brother."Phineas scoffed derisively._

_"How can you call yourself my sister?" He was afraid. He was afraid of her, and she did not like how desperately she wanted him not to be._

_But she was in control; she was Lord Revan._

_"So you won your war," he continued without waiting for a response. "I'm glad to see you've decided to make a career out of it."_

_"I never knew you to be a pacifist." She could feel his confusion, his conflict; how he wanted to laugh and compete with her, how he felt he had to argue and oppose her._

_"It's not your war I'm against, Revan. It's your taking over the galaxy by brute force that has me a little concerned."_

_She laughed. It was high and strident, and it resonated off the smooth marble walls like the wail of a banshee. Her vocal cords seemed to have forgotten her dry chuckle, and replaced it with this strangulated noise that now made the color drain out of her brother's face._

_"No one in the galaxy ever concerned themselves with what happened on Anelli. Don't pretend that your Committee extends concern where they received none."_

_He rubbed his neck, staring ruefully at the ground._

_"You look tired, Phineas." He glared at her._

_"Having you for a sister can get exhausting."_

Not only in the way your shoulders are slumping right now. _Phineas's head shot up, as if communicating through the Force was a personal violation._

What would you know? You haven't been here._ He was always so careful to contain his anger, not like Malak: to smother it like he smothered the Force, to keep it wilting and dying but never able to destroy it completely._

_"You should know that the decision wasn't reached easily," he added, straightening up. "You have a lot of friends on the Committee."_

_"But not enough."_

_"No, but the ones you have can be very...persuasive." Her brother didn't seem to know what to do with his hands; he seemed to have forgotten their usual calm position behind his back. Now they clasped and reclasped the folds of his robes, folded and unfolded in front of him, confused and lost._

_"Abbas...Abbas believes that you'll usher in a new age for the galaxy. That you'll continue to stop the tyranny of clans like the Mandalorians in ways that the Republic couldn't." Phineas glanced up at her._

_"But I've heard stories, Revan."_

_This, too, was expected. _

_Fury began to crash against her ribs like a thousand torrential thunderbolts that anyone would dare decry her in her brother's eyes, to make her less than him, to make him believe that he was a better person than her._

_Revan walked towards him._

_"What have you heard?" Phineas stood his ground._

_"You've killed," he began slowly, "You've massacred. You've sacrificed civilians for victories, soldiers to make examples. You've become a Sith...you've embraced power at any cost and superiority at any price. You'd...you'd kill anyone in your way, from a grieving mother to your closest friend-"He glanced up at Malak, who offered no support. "Even me."_

_She was now directly in front of him, eye to eye._

_"This is war, Phineas. Surely you harbor no delusions about that. People die in war." He reached out and furtively touched her mask. She grasped his hand and helped him remove it._

_Even the low lighting in her brother's apartments pained her eyes for a moment, but she bore it silently._

_Phineas stared at her face, frozen and expressionless._

_"Malak," he said nervously, despite the fact that he wasn't even looking at him. "The years haven't been kind to you."_

_Malak bared his teeth; it was not a smile._

_"No longer am I that pathetic pale orphan of your youth, Phineas. I am a Dark Lord-"_

_"A Dark Lord's _apprentice,_" she interrupted flatly, still returning her brother's gaze._

_Malak was getting far too proud; she would have to remind him of why she was the master and he was not._

_"I want to help you, Phineas," she continued in a low voice, "You can become so much more than what you are."_

_He bristled._

_"And what am I?" She grasped his trembling shoulder._

_"You are alone."_

_She felt the Force trying to break through the intricate chains he had bound it in, trying to reach into her mind, begging her to help it grow._

_"I'm not going to become your drone, Revan." He eyed Malak for a moment, "I won't be your 'apprentice'. If I choose to believe in you, it will be only belief, not a following."_

_And this, as well, was expected._

_"Listen to your friend Abbas then. Learn the truth before others turn me into a monster." She touched the hand that was still resting on her cheek. __"I'm still Revan. I'm still your sister."_

_She retrieved her mask from his hand, fitting it over her face and sighing happily at the return to darkness._

_"Don't remain their puppet anymore, Phineas. Embrace your power. You are capable of so much more."_

_She turned her back to him, heading towards the door, feeling his eyes follow her as she left, feeling his heart still in her possession. _

_Malak trailed behind her, seething in his usual misery. She allowed it, knowing that later she would pay the price for humiliating him in front of her brother, a man Malak had, in his time respected just as much as she._

_But he believed in her. He would follow her._

_Would Phineas?_

* * *

"Padawan Revan?" 

She did not answer.

"Padawan?"

Her dreams were now inviting, distracting; but no less frightening.

Bastila rose, smoothing the front of her formal Jedi robes, clasping her hands demurely in front of her.

"The Council is ready for you."

In her dreams she was no longer a Dark Lord, threatening the innocent and terrorizing the guilty.

Katrina also rose from her chair, feeling pain shoot down her legs at having been motionless for over an hour.

There were no more glowing white indignant angels, chastising her for her bloodthirsty acts, no more cackling black demons telling her to embrace her power.

Coruscant looked no different, no more irrevocably altered than when she had last been here (_with Juhani)_.

_But I have changed. I have been altered._

In her dreams everyone had become grey. And instead of large scale massacres, there was only a Jedi with a green lightsaber, watching in horror as a Cathar that had overcome the darkness to become one of those angels that did not exist anymore crumpled to the ground and vanished forever.

She passed Dustil on his way out of the Council chambers. His face looked as though a hundred mynocks had sucked all the color out of it.

She did not acknowledge him. He did not acknowledge her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye until he collapsed in the chair she had just been sitting in, as if he had been battling the entire Council rather than explaining what had happened, how he had reacted.

How could she explain? How could she account for it? How could she justify the fact that she left with three Padawans and a Master and returned with only the scarred Padawans?

"Padawan Revan, Padawan Bastila. The Council is saddened that this meeting is not under happier circumstances." Master Ahniuk seemed sobered, much more so than she remembered.

It seemed a lifetime since she had been here. Did she even remember?

"Though I imagine that comes within the territory of being on the Council." Jolee's tone was bearable, and she chose to address him rather than the rest of the Council as a whole.

"We felt it necessary to inform the Council in person, Master Jolee." He nodded, though the look in his eyes told her that he didn't think that explanation worth a hill of beans.

"The Council has reviewed the information you have brought us, Revan. We are thankful that you have discovered the source of the attack on your life, but the beginnings of a Sith uprising on Anelli are indeed disturbing tidings," Vandar murmured.

"What course of action does the Council suggest?" Bastila said.

"The Council is in agreement that this threat cannot be left to fester and grow into more than a quiet takeover of a planet on the Outer Rim," Jolee answered. "You must return to the planet and deal with the Sith threat."

'Deal' did not mean to take action towards something, to be occupied with a task. She knew very well that 'deal' equated 'crush, 'kill', 'destroy'.

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Master."

Her words did not escape like bloodthirsty convicts from her lips. She released them and sent them on their way without any hesitation.

Ahniuk raised an eyebrow.

"Do you defy the Council again, Revan?"

"Send someone else, Master. Another team of Jedi, perhaps led by Bastila." She watched them exchange glances, unaccustomed to and at the same time all too familiar with her defiance.

"I am able to continue the mission alone if the Council wishes it," Bastila volunteered.

_She's already continued it. _It was Bastila who had assumed the navigator's seat in the cockpit of the _Ebon Hawk_, gotten them back to Coruscant, contacted the Council, explained what had happened. She mourned as much as Katrina herself, but she had done what needed to be done.

She watched Jolee's brow furrow, sizing up the responsible Padawan and the former Dark Lord as if trying to figure out which one was more dangerous.

"The Council asks if you would withdraw, Padawan Bastila, and allow the Council to meet privately with Padawan Revan."

Bastila hesitated.

_Why do they exclude me?_

Katrina glanced sideways at her. She thought of his hazel eyes.

_My inclusion isn't an honor, Bastila._

The Jedi nodded, and exited the Council chambers.

"I sense much fear in you, Padawan Revan," Vandar murmured.

"Are you afraid they will attempt another attack on your life?" Ahniuk added. Jolee snorted loudly.

"Please, Ahniuk. This is Revan before you. That's like asking a Wookiee if he fears some unsightly back hair."

"We, too, are deeply saddened by the death of Juhani. We share your grief, Padawan," Ahniuk said after a moment's glare at Jolee.

"And yet," Vandar began again. "We sense that this is not the reason for your refusal to return to the planet and face the Sith."

"_The Council knows nothing of this planet, Padawan Revan." They were lying. She knew they were lying and it made her grit her teeth, the grinding making a slight hum through her pained smile._

"Why didn't the Council inform me of my connection with Anelli?" Katrina said flatly, staring expectantly at the Jedi Master.

"The Council feels that it has tampered with your past enough as it is, Revan." he said calmly. "The decision was made to allow you to discover your own history and draw your own conclusions about it."

"We knew very little about it anyways, lass," Jolee added. "We were aware it was your homeworld and that you may have had some rumored family still living there, but nothing that might have prevented this turn of events."

She swallowed hard and realized that even after everything that had happened, she was still glad she had heard it from her brother's lips than have it recited to her in the emotionless halls of the Jedi.

"Then you didn't know that my brother is...was a Sith."

The past tense stung all the more; that even when he had introduced himself, told her of his existence, even then he _was _a Sith.

Vandar nodded.

"Do you fear your brother, Revan? Do you fear this...Phineas?"

She thought of how clumsily he had grasped the blaster she had flung at him, how he had tripped and fallen trying to get away.

"No, Master, but I do not...I don't want to face him again."

"You didn't flee here merely because you wanted to see our old wrinkled faces again, did you?" Jolee said. Katrina looked up at him.

It wasn't informing the Council in person that had necessitated a quick departure from Anelli. It wasn't even the fact that they were now wanted on the planet for their roles in the deaths of Faris, Ruhol, Haytham and most of the security forces in the Anellian Mining Corporation's headquarters.

"You fear that your brother cannot be turned. That you will have to kill him." She turned to Vandar.

"I _want_ to kill him."

The entire Council was silent.

She saw Juhani, pale and cold and shivering. She saw her body disappearing, gone now except for her memory, and she clung desperately to that memory. She knew how easily it could be stolen from her.

And when she saw Juhani, she saw the Sith at the top of the stairs. The Sith that was her brother Phineas. The Sith, her brother Phineas, that had extended an arm and helped Juhani die.

She paced back and forth, one hand pulling distractedly on her earlobe.

"If I had stayed there, I would have killed him. If I go back there, I'm afraid I will."

"_Revan, you're my sister. Whether you remember it or not, a simple genetic test would confirm it. But somehow I think you know that you are." She knew. If she didn't innately feel it in the pits of her stomach, she would have no problem using her assault droid to throw him off the ship and going back to bed._

"You fear falling to the dark side again?" Ahniuk finally murmured.

_She placed the datapad in his hand, her fingers brushing against his palm. She ignored the Force jabbing her in the ribs, telling her that he was undeniably related to her._

"Falling is incidental, Master. I...care about him. I don't want him dead."

"Then you must listen to those feelings, Padawan Revan," Vandar said softly.

"I thought we weren't permitted to love. That familial attachments are discouraged because of the dangerous nature of the emotions that accompany them," Jolee recited loudly, raising an eyebrow at the Jedi.

"When love is redemptive, no," Vandar replied."When love can keep a Jedi from falling to the dark side, from giving into hate, fear, and aggression, no."

"You must return to Anelli, Revan," he continued. "If you do not, both the Sith, Sakh and your brother, will only retreat further into the dark side. It is our sincere hope that you are able to turn both back."

"If you can't," Jolee's voice was hard, and Katrina only recalled one time (one subject; one woman, his wife) when it had sounded like that before. "Then it will not mean that you have fallen again."

As unthinkable as it was, she had a brother, and he was her brother. As unthinkable as it was, he was a Sith.

And as unthinkable as it was, as much as she feared having the lightsaber that now clung benignly to her robes in her hands again, it was not over.

It would never end, as long as she was who she was.

Katrina nodded, straightening up and standing before them as a Padawan again.

"The Council also wishes to discuss the future of Juhani's former Padawan, Dustil Onasi," Ahniuk said. "We are grateful you managed to keep him from following the same dark path he had begun on."

She hadn't even thought of him. She distinctly felt the remnants of him in the room, the pain and the anguish of Juhani's death from fresh eyes.

"There was no other option, Master."

"Dustil's training is far too advanced to leave him floundering at this point," Jolee added. "One of the biggest dangers to the galaxy is an unfinished Jedi."

"What do you intend to do with him then?" The Council exchanged glances.

"We would like you to take Dustil as your Padawan and complete his training."

"_They seem to think I can learn something from you."_

"I'm still only a Padawan myself," Katrina muttered dumbly, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Bah, as if the title ever made a Jedi. You can call the Sand People Jawas, but they'll still impale you with their gaffi sticks." Jolee replied.

"You have more than met the requirements for the Trials, Revan. You have proven yourself a returned servant of the light time and again. You have defeated Malak and resisted the lure of the dark side since the Star Forge. The Council confers upon you the title of Jedi Knight."

She felt no elation. She wondered if she had been as nonplussed when they had promoted her to Knight the first time.

_I was probably too irritated that I didn't go straight to Master._

"Thank you...Excuse me if I'm not more grateful." She was no longer afraid of the Council. She realized it instantly as she heard how honest her replies were, how she no longer edited them for the Council's ears, how she no longer cared if they could watch all the memories of her life, personal or not.

Vandar and Ahniuk only nodded back as if they understood.

"But why do you want me to train him? Why not another Jedi? Why not Bastila?"

Instantly she sensed their hesitation as clearly as she had months ago when she had known they were lying about Anelli. And she sensed they were about to lie to her again.

"Dustil has been...scarred by the loss of a Master whom he clearly respected and confided in. To introduce one he has never met would make it appear as though we are trying to replace Juhani, and would only court his hostility," Ahniuk explained.

"And Bastila?"

"He knows you," Jolee answered. "He may not like you all that much, but-"

"He has every reason not to like me. I killed his mother," Katrina snapped.

_And I'm in love with his father, who also has every reason not to like me but for some reason still does._

"And allowing that hatred to fester would be doing Padawan Dustil a disservice," Ahniuk interrupted.

"He isn't defeating it if you're forcing him to hide it or look past it by matching him up with me-"

"You have been there during every step of his training," Jolee continued doggedly. "You brought him out of that Academy on Korriban, mind. You two have been through a lot together, whether either of you would admit it or not. You've got as developed a relationship as most Masters and Padawans do."

"Not most Masters and Padawans despise each other," Katrina replied.

Jolee raised an eyebrow, and the amusement was back in his eyes.

"Oh no?"

"This is your choice, Revan," Vandar finished. "If you refuse him as your Padawan, we will find him another Master, but it is the advice of the Council that you would be the best choice to continue his training."

_There was the son of Carth with a lightsaber in his hands, a dying master in front of him, and a wounded Sith clinging to the railing. __Carth's son, Juhani's Padawan, Dustil Onasi, about to fall. And there would be no second chance._

There was what she would choose and what she was supposed to choose.

"I will train him."

Master Ahniuk nodded in agreement.

"Good. Then you should prepare for your return to Anelli and what you may have to face. You may tell Padawan Bastila to reenter, for we would speak with her as well. May the Force be with you."

"Masters?" All of them looked up, waiting patiently for her question. She swallowed hard.

Carth's son made her think of Carth made her heart ache.

"I would ask the Council if there's been any word from Telos."

_There is no longing, there is no wishful thinking._

Jolee smiled sadly at her.

"No, there has been no word."

_There is no pessimism, there is no thinking that he's maybe been dead for months and you just haven't known._

Katrina nodded, bowing slowly.

"May the Force be with you, then."

She exited the chambers, sighing heavily as soon as the door closed behind her.

She was no longer afraid of them, she decided, but standing before them still took a lot out of her.

Bastila walked towards her.

"Well?"

She knew they had hidden something about Bastila, that they hadn't told her the whole truth. She struggled in vain to hide it, but Bastila found it too quickly.

Their bond would not disappear. It stubbornly held on, refusing to even weaken despite the fact that both ends were frantically thrusting it away.

"You can go in. They still want to speak to you." Bastila stared at her.

She didn't want to hurt Bastila, especially for such a mundane reason as knowing the Council had second thoughts about Bastila but not actually knowing what those thoughts were.

But hurt her she did. Bastila frowned.

"The _Hawk_ is ready if we are to return to Anelli shortly." Katrina nodded.

"We are."

The Jedi didn't seem to know what else to say. She fidgeted with her robes for a moment.

"All of us?" Katrina nodded again.

"Yes, all of us."

Without another word, Bastila walked swiftly past her and into the Council chambers.


	41. Chapter 41

"Query: Master, are supplies in this quantity really required?"

Katrina smirked in spite of herself, hefting another storage bin onto the cargo loading platform of the _Ebon Hawk_.

"If I didn't know better, HK, I'd say you were just trying to get out of loading this stuff for me."

The droid moved next to where T3 was plugged into the _Hawk_, the little droid beeping quietly to himself as he checked the status of the ship's systems.

"Assurance: Of course not, Master." HK's tone dripped with sarcasm. "I was merely trying to guarantee a speedier departure."

T3 beeped loudly.

"I do not believe the Master asked for the opinion of a glorified toolbox."

She hefted another storage bin towards the platform. Her wrists ached, the tendons stretched taut, her biceps shaking with each heavy box she forced herself to lift.

The rhythm made her forget where she was going, what she might have to do. The steady movements of lifting, moving, and slamming down again. _Lift, move, slam-_

"You keep flinging that equipment around like that both you and it won't be much good to us." Katrina only slammed the next one down harder, looking up at Canderous with a withering stare. She breathed heavily, bent over the storage bin.

The Mandalorian moved to begin helping her, grunting with each successful lift.

"Hyperdrive's checked out," he breathed between lifts. "Turrets are all online and functioning if we run into any trouble."

"So this thing's still holding together?" Canderous wiped a stray bead of sweat off his forehead, the fluidity of his movements never slowing despite the extraneous action. He spit venomously in the direction of the hull.

"With spit and bailing wire, perhaps, but yeah."

_Lift, move, slam-_

"Why are you still hanging around on this bucket of bolts then?" The Mandalorian paused, hefting the storage bin on his shoulder to stare at her.

"Anyone ever tell you that you ask an inordinate amount of questions?"

_Damn it if you aren't the most irritating woman to talk to! Isn't there someone else you can harass for a while?_

"Yes, actually."

"I don't recall you being so interested in what my story was when I helped you get off of Taris or find the Star Forge."

"That was then."

"And this is now, eh?"

_Lift, move, slam-_

"You're still not answering my question," she replied. "You're getting as bad as the old man."

Canderous snorted.

"I answered you the day you reclaimed your identity, Revan." he said, continuing to move crates. "You bested Mandalore and for that feat I would follow you into darkness or light."

"Follow me, sure. Follow a motley crew of aliens and droids, no."

Canderous paused again, watching the endless sea of air traffic around their dock, the constant movement of Coruscant speeding by.

"You couldn't possibly have believed that everything would be all right for you once you returned to Telos with the Republic's saintly hero, did you?"

It had been damnably naïve of her, but she had.

"This is about you, not me-" He gave her a cold, calculating look that said she could not push and cajole him like she did the others.

Occasionally, just occasionally, she forgot that this was Canderous Ordo; a Mandalorian who had led armies into battles, killed thousands of people without battling an eyelid, and would gladly shoot Carth at point blank range if he came up against him in combat.

Katrina exhaled uncomfortably and began to lift cargo again.

_Lift, move, slam-_

"I made an oath that I would be your man until you moved onto greater things; until the end, Revan. And killing Malak was not the end. But I think you know that already."

Canderous abruptly returned to lifting the last of the cargo.

"That's the last of it," he grunted, motioning to the droids to take the platform up.

'End' was a word she had come to realize would never come if you kept thinking about it, concentrating on it, convincing yourself that your next action would make it happen. It was a word that had become a part of her mythology, something nice to believe in but obviously not real.

"Dustil on board?" she finally said. Canderous nodded.

"Brooding in the cockpit."

_There is no uncertainty, there is no procrastinating against having to tell him you are his new Master, there is no ignorance on how to do it and not have him try to kill you._

"We can get underway then."

"As soon asthe Jedi princessgets here."

Katrina wiped her dusty hands off on her robes, narrowing her eyes.

"Bastila's not here?" The Mandalorian returned her skeptical look.

"No. I assumed she was still at some Jedi function."

She hadn't seen Bastila since the Council meeting. The Council meeting that had been _yesterday._ Katrina turned around and strode back towards the entrance to the Jedi Council headquarters.

Worse than not having seen the Jedi since yesterday was the fact that she could not _feel_ the Jedi either. Their bond reached out infinitely it all directions without ever finding its other end.

It was disorienting and she found that, as inconvenient and uncomfortable as their bond could be, the lack of it was far more frightening.

"Greetings, Master Jedi," one of the Jedi protocol droids said as she reentered the large building.

"Do you know if the Jedi Bastila is here?" The droid nodded mechanically.

"Padawan Bastila is currently in the training rooms, just down the corridor to the north."

She sighed in relief, hurrying off towards the direction the droid had indicated. The closer she came to the training rooms, the more she felt like there was some kind of magnet both drawing and repelling her at the same time.

Whatever Bastila was doing, she obviously wasn't going to welcome an intrusion. Katrina opened the door anyway.

Bastila paused momentarily, glancing up to see who it was. Her eyes met Katrina's.

_Hate._

The Jedi turned back to the training droid, hacking through one of its extended arms in a fury Katrina did not remember ever seeing in Bastila.

_No, this is not possible! You are a weak and pathetic servant of the light-_

At least, not since the Star Forge.

"This thing's practically set on HK's level of aggression," Katrina murmured up from the nearby training computer.

Bastila did not answer, deflecting a volley of blaster fire. Sweat dripped from the Jedi's brown hair, bruises dotting her body where the shocks she had failed to deflect had landed.

_Anger._

She could feel these emotions as an afterthought; something she could have sensed bond or no. All the bond was telling her was that Bastila was deathly determined to keep her from finding out what the reasons for the emotions were.

"The _Hawk_'s loaded and we're ready to get underway," she called out with more confidence than she felt.

Bastila slashed through the droid, and it fell harmlessly to the ground, joining a pile of maybe three others littering the mat.

The Jedi paced back and forth, inhale and exhaling deeply, her lightsaber idling loudly at her side.

"Bastila, we need to leave,"Katrina added.

The Jedi crossed to the computer, brusquely shoving her way past Katrina to call up another droid.

_Fear._

Katrina watched as the next droid floated obediently over to where Bastila stood, lightsaber poised, only to have one of its blasters chopped off within seconds.

"Leave then." Her voice was curt, emotionless.

"Why would we leave without you? Did the Council ask you to stay behind?"

_Suffering._

With a loud growl, Bastila flipped over the droid, hacking it in two.

"No. But I believe you would be better off if I were not present. My presence will only become a distraction and hinder the mission."

"Have you been on some Tarisian ale drinking binge?"

The Jedi glared at her.

"Do not demean the opinion of a Padawan, Master Jedi. Especially not in light of your recent promotion."

_How can you still stand against me? Why can't I defeat you?_

She couldn't imagine that the Council would have promoted her to Knight and not Bastila. Bastila was the responsible Jedi, the legendary Battle Meditation savior of the Republic, the one who had stood proudly before them at the ceremony months ago and accepted her Cross of Glory while Katrina had hid in the shadows behind Carth.

The Council had even said so within her first moments of meeting them: _Bastila will be a great Jedi someday._

"You're that incredulous?" The Jedi's voice was softer, despite her heavy breathing. "I suppose I should be grateful for your faith in me."

Bastila began to pace again, back and forth as far as she could go in the small room, looking like a caged animal.

"Unfortunately, the Council does not share that faith. They believe I have not…that I haven't conquered the dark side." 'Dark side' slid out in a hoarse whisper.

The Jedi had never mentioned her fall, had never referred in any way to the events between Malak's capture and her battle against Katrina on the Star Forge.

Their bond was strengthening by the minute. She could hear the quiet recitation of the Code in the back of Bastila's mind: _There is no emotion, there is peace_…

Peace was not a word for what she felt flowing through the Jedi.

"They think," Bastila continued, her momentum such that it appeared she could not stop now, that her feelings were coming out all at once. "That I still battle against it, that a promotion to Knight will only lead to pride, to arrogance, and to my eventual fall. For good." She paused.

"They believe that I have not conquered the dark side. But _you_ have, apparently." Bastila's voice was dead.

Katrina stared at the Jedi.

In one smooth, calculated, movement, Bastila cast out her hand and flung one of the defeated droids against the wall. It broke into a hundred tiny pieces, littering the training room floor like metallic diamonds.

"Do they think I don't remember what I did?" she said much more loudly.

_Through passion I gain strength-_

"Do they truly believe that I haven't spent every day since the Star Forge trying to atone for the deaths I caused? That I haven't been using every inch of my power to carry out their missions to the letter?"

_Through strength I gain power-_

Bastila cast another against the wall, wringing her hands against her lightsaber.

"I thought perhaps that if I continued to listen to the Council's wisdom, if I only followed the teachings of the Jedi to the letter, they would finally tell me that I had been redeemed, that I could progress beyond 'needing more training'."

_Through power, I gain victory-_

Bastila brushed hair out of her eyes, kicking one of the droids out of the way of her frantic pacing.

"'Needing more training'." Her voice was less indignant now and more bitter. "As if there isn't a more obvious way to tell a Padawan that she has failed, that she is not as special or as powerful as she had thought."

The Jedi's face became deathly calm again.

"As they themselves had been telling me for years."

_Through victory, my chains are broken-_

"But I haven't met their expectations. I had even thought that perhaps they would test me with Dustil…"

_"And what would I do there? I am a Jedi, and I belong near the Council while they make their decision."_

_"How does a decision about Dustil concern you?" Katrina said, far more nastily than she intended. The Jedi said nothing._

"To see if I was ready to become a full Knight, if I was able to train another successfully. But they gave him to Juhani."

'Juhani' seemed to cause a lull in the flow of anger Katrina had felt flowing from Bastila, and both woman stood simply staring at the ground for a moment.

"And now," Bastila finally continued. "They have decided that _you_ have conquered your past, defeated the dark side…they have decided that _you_ are ready to finish his training."

She cringed involuntarily. And she knew what would come next; what always came next.

"Do you remember how many you killed, Revan?" Her name was no longer equally intoned, as if she and Bastila were on the same level. It was slow and lingering, like Bastila was moaning it in pain.

"The thousands of deaths you are responsible for? The worlds destroyed, the tortures inflicted?"

For a moment she only saw Commander Knowl's hateful gaze, wanting to kill her for the desolation he was too tired to fix.

But if she waited long enough, she could hear Carth's quiet sigh right before he began to tell her of how his wife had died on Telos, how his son had disappeared.

Bastila had stopped her pacing and was now eye to eye with Katrina.

"Nearly four thousand, Revan." Bastila said flatly. "That is how many I am responsible for, when I used my Battle Meditation against the Republic fleet."

The Jedi's lightsaber finally retracted and both she and Katrina stood motionless in the now silent training room.

"_But what good is a single flicker of light against the sea of darkness I am drowning in? I can never atone for my betrayal."_

_She was so elated that Bastila had finally dropped her lightsaber, that the ugly yellow and red was retreating from her eyes that she struggled to think of something to say._

"_You helped Revan swim out of that darkness, Bastila, the true action of a Jedi." She reached out, carefully grasping the fallen Jedi's arm. "I want to return the favor."_

"Lives were lost." Her voice came out like the hoarse croak of a Hutt, and she cleared it before going on. "Yes, Bastila, lives were lost. That's the way of the Sith; all things end in death. It was inevitable that you would cause death when you were a part of it."

"Is this your way of comforting me?" Bastila said mockingly.

"What I remember better than facing you on the Star Forge, than butting heads with you the entire way there, seeing your lightsaber inches from my face- what I remember better is what you did afterwards."

"I failed. I still haven't earned back the Council's trust-"

"No,"Katrina interrupted flatly, even as she knew how dangerous it was to test Bastila at a moment like this. "No, you turned around and sat calmly down on the floor of the Star Forge's command deck, and I watched all the small Republic ships begin to fly at the Star Forge, finally able to attack because you had turned away from the dark side."

Katrina finished all in one breath, leaning back against the computer as if the story had taken the wind out of her.

"You'll never forget, Bastila," she added softly. "And if you do, then you have truly fallen."

"_But at what cost? In protecting you, I fell to the dark side myself. Is that the price of a Jedi's redemption? Must another of the Order fall to save me?" _

_Her words, she saw instantly, would have to be chosen with the utmost care. Like Dustil on Korriban, any misplaced verb, noun, or adjective would result in death._

"_I'm not falling, Bastila. And I can help you, but you're going to save yourself. I know it."_

Bastila leaned up against the computer next to Katrina, gently clasping her hands together and staring at the ground.

"I will not forget, but will the Council?"

"The Council will someday see what I've seen. Until then, you owe every step you take back towards the light side to yourself. And those four thousand."

"I apologize." And suddenly the angry wronged Padawan had vanished again, replaced by the willing Jedi representative Katrina remembered from long ago. "For wasting what little time we have with my foolishness and my arrogance-" Katrina grasped the Jedi's hand.

What Bastila really was was somewhere between willing Council lapdog and bitter, confined Padawan.

The Council, the Code; Katrina realized within the space of an instant that these things were as comforting and simultaneously as burdening to Bastila as those four thousand.

"Let's get back to the _Hawk_."

* * *

"Get ready to punch those coordinates in." Zaalbar growled softly, distracting her. Katrina obediently moved her hands over the controls.

She did not like how easy it was to put in Anelli's coordinates; she did not like how quickly and smoothly they had gotten through Coruscant customs and were now preparing to make the jump to hyperspace.

Most of all she did not like their destination, but she would not say that to anyone.

The ship pulled a little to the right as it eased towards open space.

"Take it easy," Canderous muttered irritably from his chair behind Mission. "I just got this thing put back together."

T3 beeped indignantly.

"The meatbag does discount our participation somewhat," HK answered.

Mission said nothing, only moved a headtail carefully over her shoulder and furrowed her brow over the controls.

She eased back into her chair, letting the pressure wash over her as they made the jump.

"Anelli's only a few parsecs away. We should be there soon," Zaalbar informed them.

Both the Mandalorian and the droids, after having watched the Twi'lek return to piloting and successfully get them to a destination without any damage, exited the cockpit. Katrina rose to join them.

"Revan?" She turned back to Mission.

"All I wanted to say was…well, don't worry about what might happen, you know?" Katrina raised an eyebrow.

The Twi'lek blew a puff of air up against her forehead, frustrated.

"You just seem upset is all."

She felt a scab somewhere near her elbow tingling.

"I am, Mission."

"Sometimes they have to learn their lessons the hard way." Her voice was older than she was.

"I know. I just wish it wasn't this way."

_I want to help you, Phineas._

Mission looked up at her with a sardonic smile and shrugged.

"Brothers are like that." Mission had not heard from her own brother since Tatooine, since learning the conniving Griff had left her on Taris alone with another woman, left the woman, and then left her on Tatooine again without any kind of justification or explanation.

Katrina returned the sad smile. _I have a brother, but he has left me too._

But there was something else she had to do now, something that couldn't be put off any longer, and had to be done before they reached Anelli.

She made her way towards the back of the ship, towards the crew quarters. Towards Dustil.

He sat on the floor with his legs out and his hands in his lap, perfectly still.

If she didn't see his brown eyes in a deadlock with the bunk across from him, never daring to blink or to move, she would have sworn he was asleep.

"You stare long enough it or your eyes might melt." It was weak, it sounded stupid, and she immediately regretted it.

Dustil looked over at her.

"I-"  
"What did you need?" His voice was impassive, as if he were a shop clerk and she was just another customer passing through.

"I want to talk to you about the Council's decision." He raised an eyebrow.

"Decision?" She stepped a bit closer, unsure as to whether she should sit, offer her hand to pull him up, stand aloof with her back to him. She did not know what a Master would do, what he needed or what he expected.

She realized with deafening clarity that she did not know what he was thinking. And she didn't like it.

"What did the Council say to you when you met with them?"

"They mourn. I mourn. May the Force be with you," he said in a curt, clipped voice.

Katrina nodded, unable to think of any sort of reply. Was he angry? Did he expect more out of them? Was he at peace? Had the dark side disappeared? Had Juhani's death (would she always gulp and shiver when she thought of it) taken it out of him for good? Or had it only replaced it with his father's brand of vengeance?

"They said more to me."

"The Council discussed me with you?"Katrina nodded.

His face gave her no clue, no reaction. Completely at a loss, she stumbled blindly ahead.

"Your training is far too advanced to be abandoned now. They agreed that you have to finish, for your sake." She felt like a dumb parrot even though she agreed with everything the Council had said. On Dustil they had finally made a correct decision.

_On me, maybe not so much._

Dustil Onasi only nodded.

Katrinaglanced over at the spot on the wall where there was a slight dent in the paneling, nothing noticeable to anyone other than the one who had put it there. She knew exactly where to look; it had been made when she had slammed Dustil into it months ago over his desire to even begin training.

Now here she was, about to finish it.

"They-"  
"Well?"

_I am not afraid of him. I am afraid of what he could so easily become._

"I am to be your new Master."

She did not mean for it to sound so domineering, for 'Master' to echo back as 'mother', 'replacement', 'Juhani'; but even she could hear the difference between how she had said it and how he had heard it.

Dustil pushed himself slowly up from the floor, standing at his full height to fix his gaze on her.

He was not taller than her, but in that moment she felt much smaller.

Katrina stared back, unapologetic. She had chosen this; she had stopped him in the cave. _He is Carth's son. I love Carth._

Dustil finally nodded.

"Are you all right?" She could not keep the shock out of her voice, could not hide the obvious expectation she had had that he would explode, that she would have to use her lightsaber and every word she knew to control him.

Dustil gazed at her again, straightening his robes.

She felt nothing from him. There was no anger; but there was no peace either. Nothing was even more disturbing.

His voice slid out as blunt and red as the lightsaber crystal he still could not align correctly.

"Yes, Master."


	42. Chapter 42

_They looked so powerful, in their simple understated robes. She wondered if it was a uniform, or if there were ranks within that different robes denoted-_

_"Revan?" _

_She looked up, returning her mother's gaze evenly. It said what normal mothers simply spoke: Eat your food._

_She dug her fork into her food with renewed vigor, smirking across the table at Phineas._

_And the strange metal devices that hung from their belts; they carried no blasters, demolitions, or vibroblades. The devices must have been weapons. She admired the clean, sleek design of them and wondered if she would ever get to see how they were used-_

_"I do work hard for this food, Revan, so if you don't want it, I ask that you tell me before I waste it."Her mother did not betray annoyance- she simply went on eating her own meal, watching Revan with more curiosity than motherly concern._

_Revan smiled._

_"I met a Jedi today, Mother." Phineas paused in the middle of his drink._

_"A Jedi?" Nura replied, nonplussed, as if Revan had said 'the janitor' or 'a protocol droid'. _

_"A few of them, actually."_

_"The Jedi are here to investigate the presence of Force sensitive individuals on Anelli," Phineas added quickly. "There are rumors that my mentor for the Junior Committee program, Committee Member Abbas, was once involved with them."_

_Revan rolled her eyes. Her brother rarely said anything nowadays that didn't sound like a press release or didn't contain the word 'Committee'. _

_"Rumors are often false," Nura replied, beginning to cough._

_"They want to see me again. Me and Malak." Even as she said it, she found it as incredible as she had earlier today- one moment she was just a ten-year old girl, coming home from school with her thin and pale friend. The next she and said friend were suddenly the interests of the Jedi, with a promise to meet again on their way home from school the next day._

_Malak seemed more nervous and afraid than excited, wary of anything giving him more notice than one gave a piece of furniture. _

_She, on the other hand, was fighting to keep from dancing around the table with child-like glee she hadn't shown since she was five._

_"They think _you're_ Force sensitive?" Phineas said, his calm and bipartisan tone immediately breaking into a derisive older brother's voice._

_Nura's eyes were bloodshot and Revan watched her mother inject herself with a medpac under the table, trying and failing to hide the moment of weakness from her children._

_"No." Best that she keep those particular pipe dreams to herself for a while. _

_"Today I was picked to present the case of the miners of Delre," her brother began dismissively."They claim that their mine is not being adequately kept up and it will fall within a matter of years." Nura nodded, her hand shaking slightly as she took another bite._

_"I know. I watched it." _

_Phineas sat up straight._

_"You did? I didn't know they broadcast the Junior Committee exercises-"_

_"You didn't win the case." Revan felt as though someone had jabbed a sharp stick in her side. But it was not her side that ached._

_Was this what the Jedi were talking about? Was this the Force?_

_Phineas didn't move._

_"Yes…Yes, they failed to get support for their claims. But an investigation has been started." _

_Nura breathed through her mouth now, loud and raspy._

_Her mother was sick. That much Revan knew, but she couldn't very well ask her mother 'what's wrong' or 'how can I help you'. _

_"You'll do better on your next case," she replied flatly, sitting back in her chair for a moment and staring at the food as if it were to blame. _

_Revan inspected it too, wondering why she didn't feel sick. She couldn't think of anything that might weaken her mother and not infect her and Phineas; and the rest of Anelli, and the rest of the galaxy._

_Nura rose abruptly from her chair, passing them and retreating into the bedroom._

_She sat in silence with Phineas for a moment, shoving her food around her plate._

_She felt like she had a bruise on her shin and someone kept pressing into it with their fingertips. But it wasn't her shin that ached._

_Little hiccupping noises came from across the table, and she looked in the direction of the bedroom, wondering if it was her mother, if she should do something._

_It took a moment before she realized the noises were coming from Phineas. He clenched his fork in exactly the position it had been when Nura had left the room, but his other hand was now halfway through his dark brown hair, knocking it out of it's usual straight lines and making strands stick out in random directions off his forehead._

_He stared at the middle of the table as if he could burn a hole through it._

_She felt as though she wanted to do the same, even though it wasn't her eyes that burned, that felt wet._

_"Phinny-" she began slowly, with a nickname she hadn't used since she was too young to even know her own name. "Are you crying?"_

_The verb had no place in this house- where no one had cried since not knowing there was a word for that too. But she could see the wet lines on Phineas's cheeks, saw how tired his eyes were with a red tint that didn't come from illness._

_She got up and walked over to him._

_She felt as though she wanted to hug him, to make him stop crying, to make him become her arrogant older brother again, even though her arms refused to lift._

_He stood up quickly, resting his fists on the table, breathing slowly._

_"Why are you crying?" She couldn't keep the shock out of her voice, the disgusting way her lips spat out the word 'crying'. _

_She felt as though she wanted to throttle him, to get him out of her sight, to make him smaller than her, even though it wasn't her hand that turned and lifted to shove him back into his chair._

_Revan felt a small jolt, and stumbled backward but stayed upright. _

_It surprised her as much as it did Phineas, who stood staring at his own hand as if it was a malfunctioning droid. He had been able to do it before, mostly when she was irritating or teasing him; he would somehow shove her back onto the couch or the chair she was sitting in without ever touching her._

_But now nothing had happened. She hadn't plopped down onto the floor. There was no giggling over how his strange power had made her tumble clumsily back onto a chair._

_She had only taken a step backwards. Was this what the Jedi were talking about? Was this the Force?_

_He tried again. She only felt a slight pressure on her chest, and did not move at all._

_There was a difference; he had never done it with the intention to hurt her, to make her smaller. _To throttle, or to get me out of his sight.

_Phineas inhaled deeply, dropping his hand back down to his side and retreating into another room._

_Revan felt as though she wanted to be better than him, to be able to knock him down as he had once been able to do to her._

_Even though she was a ten-year-old interest of the Jedi, already on her way there._

* * *

Like the _Endar Spire_ nearly two years ago, she wasn't exactly awakened to sweet nothings. 

At first it was just a low rumbling, like the normal creaking of the _Hawk_. She rolled over, crossing her arms over her chest, trying not to over-analyze the vision she had just had, trying to ignore it.

Next was a physical jolt, shoving her up against the cold steel walls that held up her bunk, forcing her eyes to open whether they wanted to or not.

Katrina quickly pushed herself up, walking at a brisk pace towards the cockpit.

"Cease fire, Fornia Security, repeat, cease fire! We have come peacefully!" Bastila sounded more irritated than frightened as she transmitted the message again.

The now-familiar reddish colored sky spread before her, lighting up the cockpit with a sort of ethereal orange glow. She could now recognize the skyline of Fornia, make out the outline of the Fornia Demolitions plant in the distance, the high and reaching spires of the government offices.

A small fighter swept past them, rocking the ship with its proximity and speed.

"Perhaps we should move out towards the rural areas and make our way to the city on foot," Zaalbar growled, punching a few buttons to silence a beeping alarm.

"They're just going to throw us in some cell and let us rot if we try to land in the city anyways," Mission added.

No. That was running away. And she was _not_ running away again.

"They can try," she murmured back to the Twi'lek, leaning over Bastila to press the comm again.

"We will land peacefully and be taken into custody, Fornia Security. I have matters to discuss with the Committee."

The fighter that replied stopped firing, but Katrina knew without looking at the sensors that the small ships had them surrounded, and would escort her into the dock and to the government offices.

There would be no chance to escape, no second attempt at getting it right.

"Then I hope, _Ebon Hawk_," the fighter replied, "That you have a good lawyer."

Canderous landed the ship neatly in the same dock they had been in before, and they turned to Katrina with expectant eyes.

She suddenly felt like the leader of some hideous cult that would slit their own wrists if she gave the go-ahead.

"Caution: Master, the Fornian Security forces intend on arresting you. They will in all probability impound the ship and put the crew in holding cells until the Committee decides upon a sentence," HK said with a slight hint of derision in his modulated voice, as if she should have realized that and taken appropriate aggressive action already.

"We have plenty of evidence against Sakh and…" _No, not yet._ "And the rest of the Sith on Anelli." She waved her datapad in the air as proof.

"With luck, they'll be too busy debating to remember the charges against us and won't notice we've left the planet until it's all over."

'Over' did not mean the end. There would be no end. But 'over' didn't mean kill either. She didn't know what it would mean.

"What's to stop them from coming after us?" Canderous murmured. Katrina eyed the grip he had on his blaster and pitied the guard that would have to relieve him of it.

"Anellian law doesn't include extradition procedures, or going out of the jurisdiction of their own system. So long as we clear the system before they get to us, they'll say 'good riddance' and go on with their lives."

"Just so long as we never come back," Bastila added.

She hadn't thought of that. The fact that, no matter how today ended, she would probably never see him again.

_One way or another._

Her lack of anger towards him both unnerved and comforted her. _But love is more dangerous than all those things, apprentice._

Someone had said it on Korriban; Uthar? Yuthura? Sith who were long dead or long gone.

Thinking of Korriban made her think of the Sith made her think of Dustil.

Her Padawan (she would have to get used to thinking that those two words equaled Dustil Onasi) stood behind her, watching her with careful eyes as if waiting for her to do something he could imitate.

All she did was turn and walk towards the gangplank, followed by everyone else. He couldn't do anything else but follow as well.

A security team waited for them, lined up like soldiers being inspected at the end of the gangplank.

"Crew of the _Ebon Hawk_, you have been indicted with crimes against the planet of Anelli, including multiple murder charges, breaking and entering, and damage to property. You are to be taken before the Committee immediately for a preliminary hearing."Katrina nodded.

"Good." The guard only stared at her.

"Your weapons, please."

She considered hiding her lightsaber for a moment, maybe tricking him into believing she had already given it to him, considering what had happened the last time she had foolishly handed over her weapon.

But as had happened frequently on this world, Anellians were hard headed people that weren't easily tricked. She might fool him, but she doubted she could fool every other guard on the detail and every one that would follow.

She handed it over somewhat begrudgingly, keeping the datapad tight in her grip as if he would try to take that from her too.

The security team surrounded them, half around the droids, Mission, and Zaalbar, and the other half around the rest.

"Hey, where do you think you're drawing this line, huh? Humans and the rest of us?" Mission said indignantly, shoving the hand of one of the guards off of her.

"The rest of your crew was not involved in the crimes you are charged with. The Committee wishes to question the Jedi and the Mandalorian alone."

The guard examined Katrina's lightsaber carefully, as if whatever he was looking for was hidden in its smooth metal casing.

"There was another Jedi, a Cathar-"

She braced herself, ready for Dustil. Nothing came, and she was oddly disappointed.

"She did not survive our return," Katrina answered flatly.

The guard nodded again respectfully.

"The Committee does not wish to question you either, Jedi apprentice," he said to Dustil.

'Apprentice' sounded like it meant 'evil', 'mutant', 'disfigured'. She swallowed, again watching Dustil for reactions.

"He's my Padawan," she finally said, testing the words between her lips and found that they weren't any harder to say than 'Carth's son'. "If you question me, you question him."

The guard didn't object, apparently as fair and unbiased to their criminals as they were to anyone else with opposing views.

"Good luck, Master Jedi," a voice called from the entry way to the dock.

She glanced over at the port authority officer she had first met upon landing here. He smirked at her and she smiled ruefully at the sky as if it were to blame.

"You'll forgive me if I don't pay the docking fee this time." He nodded as if he understood. She doubted he did.

The government offices were as busy as ever, but the crowds quieted and parted respectfully for them.

She wondered that no one threw anything or shouted death threats at her. Surely some of those officers she had killed, albeit Sith in disguise, were residents of Fornia? Surely some of them had friends and family?

If any of them did, none were here to persecute her. Apparently that was the job of the Committee.

The guards led her straight to the chambers. One opened the door, waiting patiently for her to enter.

"Jedi Revan. We did not expect your return." It was as cordial as her first visit. Katrina wondered how long the atmosphere would remain that way. She could feel suppressed anger like an itchy piece of clothing around the room, so pervasive that even if Sakh or the late Abbas had been in the room, she might not be able to sense them.

The voice was rough like leather but not cruel. It was not over-confident, brimming with golden assurance. It was not him.

She relaxed a little, stepping into the spotlight without any hesitation.

"I won't waste your valuable time, members of the Committee. I have information regarding the illegal activities of some of your members." One of the members cleared his throat loudly.

"Yes…you'll forgive us if Committee Member Abbas is not here to review your evidence."

The memory of his yellowing skin and white hair, how silently his body had slipped over the railings in Delre and plummeted into nothingness.

Katrina tried to remind herself that the Committee did not have this image of their colleague, that they could not immediately look at him and label him "evil Sith" as she had.

"This datapad contains messages of a Sith nature sent from Committee Member Abbas to Committee Member Sakh." She heard no indignant cries. If Sakh was there among the shadows, he made no indication of shock towards her accusations.

"These messages refer to a relationship akin to master and apprentice between Abbas and Sakh respectively," Bastila added. "We also have further testimony as to the location in which they carried out these Sith activities, which were conducted and hidden at an abandoned mining venture in the city of Delre, near one of Abbas's private estates. We also have evidence that Abbas once owned this mine-"

"Do you have information pertaining to the death of Abbas?" the voice asked calmly, as if they hadn't said a word.

"We have a recording of a man being brutally murdered by two cloaked Sith, presumably Abbas and Sakh. We offer it up for your records to see if you have anything else on the murder of this unknown man-"

"I ask again, Jedi Revan." The voice seemed to lose its composure for a slight moment, crossing the line from firm suggestion to livid force. "Do you have information pertaining to the death of Abbas?"

'Death' immediately sounded like 'murder'.

"We tracked the Sith to Abbas's private estate and engaged them. Abbas was critically wounded in battle-"

"Battle?" A derivise snort came from the far left of the room.

"That old man could barely hold a gavel!"

"We have no proof of his death-"

"What do you want, his body before you?"

The Committee erupted into a loud internal argument, and she stood frozen for a moment. Two hands briefly wandered into the spotlight, stretching out to silence the others for a moment.

"And the rest, Jedi Revan?" the voice demanded.

"The ideology of the Sith is superiority. Abbas was defeated, and thought he could go undefeated if he took his own life. He jumped over an access platform and fell to his death in the abandoned mining caverns."

The Committee exploded in outrage and loud debates. The noise bounced hard off the walls, making their words turn into unintelligible static.

"I know these facts may be hard to face-" she yelled over the din. They ignored her.

"Members of the Committee, listen!" she tried again.

The noise finally died down, but she could see the arms and hands of many of the Committee members near the edge of the spotlight, leaning forward over their large podium as if physical proximity might make them understand the charges she was bringing against them.

"I also have within the contents of this datapad incriminating evidence against the one of the chief corporate officers of the Anellian Mining Corporation-"

"Haytham-" One of the Committee Members was instantly shushed.

Their usual composure and intimidating presense was somewhat muddled, and it seemed more like she was facing a very tall table of shocked citizens rather than the strength and might and wisdom of the Committee with a capital C.

"There is a communication between Haytham and one of the Sith regarding the purchase of an illegal line of demolitions, the Inferno line which had been galactically banned through a mandate from Coruscant itself," Bastila said.

"And does this communication refer directly to Committee members Abbas or Sakh? Or are these Jedi instincts we are relying upon?"

_No, they refer to someone else entirely._

Katrinainhaled deeply, feeling for the first time how many meters there were between herself and Bastila next to her in the spotlight, how many shadows lay between where Dustil and Canderous stood flanked by guards near the entrance.

_Him too. He was part of it. Say it._

"A search of Haytham's private files revealed more about the source of the transmission-"

"_The response was, 'Understood. Fifty-thousand as promised will be sent when my Lord comes." _

"_Is there a name with this file?" It had been one of the damaged ones; Katrina could find no source for the fragmented information._

"The transmission originated from this very government office. From the private quarters of Committee Member Phineas."

His name came out much easier than she had prepared for it to be.

The Committee was instantly silent. A pair of hands before her clasped together softly within the light, despite the fact that she was expecting them to grip the ends of the podium, try and rip it apart.

Try and rip _her_ apart.

She could feel shock, anger, and fear all around her. Darkness made their reactions invisible but the Force made them almost her own.

"Forgive our skepticism, Master Jedi." Her head snapped up violently, as if a puppeteer had yanked on her strings. "But haven't you any _real_ proof?"

She knew that voice.

And by now she knew exactly which dark form to glower at.

Katrina stood silently for far longer than she should have.

"I think you're a little biased to be rejecting this evidence." His presence seemed so obvious now, like a bright red blot on a white sheet.

"I think you're a little biased to be presenting it." The first person reference snapped like a wounded animal.

Hearing his voice made her think of him made her think of the mask and the outstretched hands made her think of Dustil stalking towards Abbas, red blade in hand made her think of Juhani's feeble grip and slow dissolve made her think of him lying on the landing platform at her mercy made her think of how he had betrayed her.

She heard a slight cracking sound as the datapad began to bend unnaturally beneath her fingers. She loosened her grip.

"I ask that the Committee disregard the council of Committee Member Phineas." His name was harder now, coming out as a single rumbling syllable rather than the smooth three it was comprised of. "He is one of the accused, and you can't possibly-"

"Twice before you have charged into our chambers and presumed to tell the Committee how its business should be conducted," the gruff, older voice that had greeted her at the beginning now returned, incensed. "The Committee would thank you to let it manage its own affairs."

Katrina swallowed hard, gripping her datapad against her chest as if it were an energy shield.

_There is no brother, there are no personal feelings._

"I apologize for my conduct, but if you would just-"

"The Committee has given you leeway to the fullest extent of our laws, Jedi Revan. We do not persecute or prejudice for crimes that are in no way connected with our planet."

She bit her tongue on the rebukes she usually reserved for people who lived in shells and still considered themselves fair and open-minded.

"But the crimes you have committed in the past months…the audacity of coming before this tribunal with accusations against its own members…these are most definitely within our jurisdiction."

Their icy composure settled over them again like carbonite with the last ringing word.

Behind them a wide viewscreen suddenly opened up, backlighting them and making their outlines solid black shapes up against blinding white. She tried not to stare at the one just off-center, the one with the straight posture and the folded hands.

"Can you explain your actions in this security recording, taped nearly two weeks ago in the restricted offices of the Anellian Mining Corporation corporate offices?"

She very quickly identified herself and the red lightsaber blade following her through the labyrinth offices. Revan and Dustil, slicing their way through guard after guard. The cameras followed them to Haytham's office, to the room full of dead or unconscious guards that had led to it. She watched herself walk past them without a second glance.

She saw Haytham and watched two blades come dangerously close to his throat, one yellow and one blue-

_Juhani_.

She watched the door explode, the absence of sound somewhat unnerving while watching the intensity of a battle she had survived. The camera shook with the explosion, took a stray blaster shot from Canderous, and the recording ended before either Sith entered the room.

"The tape doesn't show the Sith that came through that door, your Committee members Abbas, Sakh, and Phineas attacking us-" 'Attacking' caused the figure with the straight posture and folded hands to slam said hands on the podium.

"You're my _sister_!"

Her first reaction was to clench her fist together, wanting to hear the satisfying crunch of muscle and bone between the vice of the Force around his neck.

But the second reaction was to feel Bastila's sudden tense shoulders, Canderous's narrowed, battle-ready eyes.

Dustil's sharp, expectant inhale.

_There is no emotion, there is a Padawan watching you, Master._

"You and your companions are charged with the murders or attempted murders of over two dozen men-" the voice plodded ahead.

"Those officers were all Sith in disguise!"

"You have no proof of that," her brother added, mock offense and real delight mixing together to make his words go up and down in pitch.

_I want to kill him_.

"You are to be tried and convicted, and kept in custody until we can review your claims and sort out the fabrications from the tangible evidence."

No, this was all going wrong.

"And is this the decision of your political body, or the Sith in politician's clothing that sits with you?" Canderous called out from the shadows, eying the guards that were slowly approaching him like flies that had been buzzing around his head too long.

"Enough!" Phineas seemed to have lost all control. His entire upper body stood and thrust over the podium towards them, his face momentarily visible.

She stared back at his wild, sweaty hair, his wide trembling eyes, looking like he had just come in from the battle they had had weeks ago.

The guards pressed up against her, pushing her towards the exit.

Hands from the other members of the Committee came out to pull their comrade back into the shadows, murmuring words of comfort.

"The Committee indeed hopes your claims hold some merit, Jedi Revan," the voice called after her, grave and absolute. "If they do not, your life may not hold much merit either."


	43. Chapter 43

Amid everything else she was thinking about, Katrina heard the cold hiss of the force field coming to life, keeping her locked in her cell.

Tried, convicted, and practically sentenced. _And not unfairly, I might add_.

Was this what it would have been like if the entire galaxy knew who she was? The Dark Lord Revan shuttled from world to world, convicted of the same crimes for the same reasons?

She spent a few moments gratefully thanking whatever gods influenced the Council's decision to begrudgingly hide her identity and redemption instead of exploiting it as a lesson for all.

She began to pace back and forth in her cell- a standard prison block, without the dilapidation of the cells on Telos or the open top of Haytham's trap.

It had all gone wrong. This was not supposed to have happened.

Katrina was not supposed to have been silenced mid-argument and sent off to the cells without any hesitance. She was not supposed to have been given no chance to end it all. She should have, at the very least, been able to convince them of Abbas's and Sakh's guilt and their identities as Sith.

_He_ should not have been there.

She hadn't expected him, and that had thrown her and the entire balance of the equation off kilter. Phineas had obviously helped to implicate her, to get her thrown in here before she had a chance to do the same to him.

She ground her teeth together furiously.

_Do you suppose Sakh was there as well?_ If Bastila had spoken the words she wouldn't have been able to hear them through the thick steel that separated their cells.

_No. There was too much evidence against him and his history doesn't help. It was probably too dangerous for him to try and be that shameless, _she replied.

_But Phineas could. _

She pounded her fist against the wall. She listened to it echo back up the steel surrounding her, overwhelming for a moment and then dying away to nothing. Bastila hesitated a moment before continuing.

_We have very little evidence against your brother other than our own testimony. If we hope to get out of this without more bloodshed, we'll need to find more evidence than what we have._

Katrina wasn't sure it wouldn't end without bloodshed. But she kept that particular opinion to herself.

_Speaking of getting out of this, how do you propose we get ourselves out of these cells? I'm not going to sit here and rot until they formally sentence us to sit here and rot._

Dustil was here as well. She couldn't feel his presence as keenly as Bastila's, but it was there all the same, intense and burning somewhere in the prison block.

_Dustil, any ideas?_ she sent towards him tentatively, weakly. There was no response. Either he couldn't hear her, or he didn't want to.

A loud scuffle came from outside her cell. Katrina leaned closer to the force field, getting a shock in her arm as she brushed against it.

"Big Z, try not to break the guy's neck, will ya?" The familiar voice of Mission Vao came echoing down the hallway. "That last one sounded like you cracked something important."

A large hairy arm reached out and thumped the guard standing in front of her cell on the head. He crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

Mission shoved her way in front of the Wookiee, working the controls until the force field quietly died.

"You two work fast," Katrina said, stepping over the guard.

"Correction: Were my methods employed, Master, your escape would have been faster still," HK answered, stepping up behind them.

T3 beeped insistently at her heels, his mechanical arm holding out her lightsaber. She took it gratefully, patting the droid's head.

"HK, you didn't kill anything, did you?"

"Assurance: No, Master, of course not!" The droid seemed to sigh theatrically, though Katrina was sure it was probably just the hum of his circuits.

"May I remind you that I am also a protocol droid, well versed in cultural and social customs in countless societies? To kill the guards would certainly add to your prison sentence and detract from your efforts in bringing a successful case to the Committee."The droidpaused.

"As enjoyable as the activity might prove, however."

Katrina smirked.

"Well, thanks for thinking ahead, HK."

"The guards had us taken to a similar prison block within this political building," Zaalbar growled.

"How did you escape?" Bastila murmured, stepping out of her own cell and taking her weapon.

"Coppertop bust us out," the Twi'lek answered.

"Explanation: Apparently Anellian procedure with criminal droids is to research their capabilities rather than shutting them down or dismantling them. They thought to employ several of my features with their own fledgling battle droid productions." HK lifted his head with pride. "But my capabilities were enough to outwit both them and their research."

"We'll be sure to give you a nice iron-plated medal," Canderous muttered.

Dustil joined them, taking his lightsaber from Mission without a word and inspecting it as if she might have tampered with it.

There wasn't any blinding rage or overwhelming sadness coming from him; and that only made her more irritated at how he was ignoring her.

"Are you all right?" He glanced up at her momentarily before turning his attention back to the weapon.

"Fine."

_I hate sullen teenagers._

She found that motherly thoughts were a lot more awkward to have than Master-ly ones, and decided not to try them again.

"T3, think you can hack into their system and find out what they've done with the _Hawk_?"

The droid rolled obediently to the nearest access port and plugged himself in. He hummed quietly for a moment before answering.

"So they haven't even taken the ship." Mission whistled. "Wow, it's pretty swanky for the criminals around here, isn't it?"

"Clarification: The Anellian authorities have placed the dock under lockdown, but the ship itself has not been tampered with or even boarded. Anellian procedure is to respect personal property until a search becomes vital for criminal prosecution."

"We'll have to break the lockdown without calling any more attention to ourselves," Bastila said.

Canderous nodded, hefting his blaster to his side.

"The droids, the Twi'lek, and the Wookiee can follow me. I'll head back to the ship and make sure it's ready to go when we need to."

"You're not exactly the most inconspicuous group," Katrina said wryly.The Mandalorian gave her that half grimacing smile.

"You let me worry about blending in. The guards won't even know we've been there."

The prison block was, like everything else on Anelli, situated for efficiency and sleek design. A straight corridor had led from the Committee chambers to the cells- not a viable option for an exit. And they couldn't follow Canderous and the others; they were already tempting fate with a giant Wookiee, an assault droid, and a Twi'lek all in one escaping group.

"Revan." She followed Bastila's voice to where the Jedi was pointing. "I believe these panels lead to an electrical access corridor."

Katrina moved to help Bastila remove one. With a final loud crackle of metal against metal, the panel came free. They stood for a moment, waiting for security teams to come barging in from the noise.

"Access for a Kaminoan, maybe," Dustil muttered, glancing down the incredibly slim corridor.

Katrina was already sliding sideways inside of it. She stood nearly sandwiched between two walls, but still able to move. She bit her tongue on some witty retort and instead held her arms out, looking towards Dustil pointedly.

Her Padawan's gaze returned to the floor, getting into the access corridor without another word.

Bastila also gave her a skeptical, somewhat green look, but obediently followed.

Pipes and bulky wires ran the length of the corridor. Katrina carefully squeezed her way past them, watching for any break in the endless wall of steel. Near every access panel exit there was a small label indicating which area it powered.

She inched extremely quietly past the section labeled "Security Control Room".

She ran her fingers along the steel walls as if they were equipped with instant Force-sensors. She felt nothing but the adrenaline of escape and the pounding hearts of the Jedi following her.

When they finally came to a section marked "Committee Member Quarters", it was like static shock connecting with her fingertips.

"I sense their presence," Bastila whispered. "They must have just returned from deliberations."

_Their presence, perhaps, but not the one I'm looking for._

Aggravation and stress were in every room, permeating the air around them even though they couldn't see whoever was suffering both.

_Warmer, warmer…_

Her fingers froze and refused to move, running themselves brusquely over the lines of the panel.

_Burning hot._

There was his rage, personal and cold unlike the outrage of any of the others. There was his panic and his scrambling to get control of it, to formulate a plan. There was the soft echo of pacing she could hear if she put her ears up against the wall.

It was her brother, it was Phineas.

Katrina held her palms flat, ready to smash the panel open, to enter with a strident calling card that let him know exactly what her intentions were.

Instead she and Bastila squeezed together and gently opened the panel, placing it carefully on the other side of the wall.

The panel had been in his bedroom. Goosebumps formed on her arms; his rooms were freezing, and completely dark. The only light came from the standard emergency lighting in the baseboards of the walls. She didn't see him, but she could hear him in the next room, still pacing, his breathing coming out like sporadic snorts from his nostrils.

_Is he upset because he betrayed me, or because he got caught?_

Bastila sighed with relief at coming out of the tight passageway, taking a few wide steps around the room. Katrina found that she couldn't make her legs move in any other direction other than the steps she was taking towards his pacing, his breathing.

_A Jedi does not act rashly, a Jedi does not lose control of the situation,_ she struggled to tell herself, even though the situation felt like fraying thread between a pair of scissors.

Her first step around the doorframe, into the sitting room she had been in before-

_Where I shook his hand, gripped his shoulder, embraced him and thanked him and smiled at him and loved him-_

Her first step into his field of vision startled him even before he saw her.

Phineas's pacing stopped abruptly as if he had run into an invisible wall. He cocked his head of matted brown hair to one side as if listening for something. His shoulders finally slumped, but he didn't move from the spot he had stopped at.

"Revan?" Her name cracked on his lips, but finally righted itself on the second syllable.

Words came, but none of them kind and nothing she could bring herself to say. Instead she responded by extending her lightsaber. The hiss of the weapon coming to life lingered before fading into its normal hum.

Phineas turned to stare at her, taking a quick breath as though it might be his last chance to have one.

"I thought you were Sakh," he said flatly.

"Would you rather I was?" Her brother gripped the folds of his robe, the sweat on his palms visible even in the dim light.

"No…" He broke into a bitter laugh. "He's coming to kill me, Revan."

_The Jedi do not believe in killing their prisoners. No one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes_.

It was Bastila's voice she heard in her head, but the real Bastila was standing behind her next to Dustil, watching with a completely blank expression. For once, the Jedi did not seem to know ahead of time what Katrina was supposed to do.

Dustil looked as though he knew exactly what was going to happen and he was only waiting for his part.

"I see you're starting with the lies early this time," she finally said. Phineas's eyes narrowed. "Trying to make me feel sorry for you…"

She trailed off, unable to accept that she already did.

He sighed exasperatedly, and the sheer audacity of it made her grind her teeth together. _He_ was irritated? _He_ felt put-out?

"You think I'm looking for your pity? Sympathy from you is the _last_ thing I'm looking for."

She eyed the chair nearest to her, wanting desperately to reach out and slam it to the floor. She could envision one of the legs splitting down the middle, tiny pieces of wood scattering across the metal plating.

_A Jedi does not destroy, a Jedi does not give in to these emotions in front of her Padawan._

Her brother shuddered.

"I'm sorry."

It was only two words. Somehow it translated to 'I tried to kill you and everyone you care about while making you care about me'.

She stalked towards him, lightsaber in hand.

Like everything else he did, Phineas reacted quickly and correctly. His hand shot out, knocking them all to the floor.

Katrina slid up against his couch, pushing herself up and leaping towards him. Her brother's clenched fist was instantly in her face. She felt a tightening in her throat, as if the air was suddenly full of straight pins.

Bastila had already risen from the floor, frozen in attack position, staring at Katrina.

_No. I'll do it._ The Jedi nodded, gently restraining Dustil.

She kept moving forward, ignoring the pain in her throat. Phineas looked uncertain for a moment, but he finally clenched harder. She gasped, hacking and trying to get the imaginary lump out of her throat.

But she kept coming closer. Phineas froze.

She was ten years old again, and he was the fifteen year old crying over his mother. _You are weak._

He was suddenly tripping clumsily over the three stairs that led up to his desk. His breathing was shallow; hers became deep and strong again. He put his hand up feebly, as if it could stop the glowing green blade that was coming closer and closer to his chin.

_I'll do it._

"You're going to kill me?" he whispered, his eyes wide, hazel; her own looking back at her in an expression she hadn't thought they were capable of.

"You tried to kill me." He shook his head wildly.

"No, I swear, I don't want you dead, Revan." Phineas struggled to push himself up, still stumbling all over the stairs. "Think! If I wanted you dead, all I'd have to do is alert security. They'd have you tried, convicted, and executed before the end of the night."

"Haytham's _Inferno_ weapons were used in the attack against me. That message is from you to Haytham," Her voice got louder but she did not let its momentum break free. "You called Abbas your Lord. You ordered the weapons that were used to try and kill me."

"I didn't know they would try to kill you! I thought you were dead, I thought you died in the war when Malak attacked you!"

_Bastila's face, a yellow lightsaber, a sudden jolt, and darkness._

"I didn't find out until after you landed on the planet. Abbas and Sakh told me right after your first meeting with the Committee."

_Dark brown hair, hazel eyes, tall and straight with a firm handshake and an unflappable voice._

"And what happened when you found out?"

He gulped, wiping his nose in his sleeve, looking so much younger, so much more vulnerable.

"When I found out…" He began to pull himself up on the side of his desk, kneeling before her. "When I found out…"

"When you found out, you did _nothing._" The word was so rough, like the howl of a krayt dragon, complete with its impenetrable skin and overwhelming size. "You didn't tell me, you didn't renounce Abbas and Sakh, you didn't try and have them arrested, you did _nothing_."

"I was angry!" The voice she remembered was back, fiery red and without a trace of the frightened creature that had been before her a moment ago.

"In case you've forgotten, Revan," he spat, "You're the one that got me involved in the first place-"

_"You tried to recruit me into the Sith, Revan." _

_"Did I succeed?" He gave a triumphant little smile._

_"I didn't want to become one of your mindless soldiers, no matter how tempting you made it sound."_

"You set me on a path, and then left me there!" Three words seemed to matter in his vocabulary now, and they were 'you', 'left', and 'me'; all three enunciated far clearer than anything surrounding them.

"You left me here with a dead woman, you came back to demand weapons from me, you left me again with a Committee that was beginning to see me as a liability because of my demanding sister. Then you came back for the same reason and that time left me for good with a Master over me and an apprentice constantly looking to be over me too."

"_Phinny, are you crying?"_

"I am NOT weak!" he bellowed, slamming his hand on the desk. The hand holding the lightsaber reacted and inched closer to him. He bent slightly back in an effort to get away from it.

_A Jedi doesn't think about weaknesses. A Jedi doesn't look for any chance to get ahead._

"Why didn't you stand up to them?" She felt like she was having some pointless kids' argument that would end up with his bloody nose either way.

"I _have_ stood up to them, Revan, I've betrayed them!"

"_They've been betrayed-"Haytham choked out. "Abbas and Sakh, and-" He fell out of the chair and onto the ground, unable to speak, grasping wildly at his throat as if the hand clenching it closed was tangible and could be pried off._

"How?"

He snorted derisively as if she should have known.

"Who do you think's been keeping you out of the prison blocks up until now? You infiltrated private files of Fornia Demolitions and stole sealed records. You very loudly broke into two private homes, caused thousands of credits worth of damage, and murdered two aristocrats. Did you really think no one had noticed all that wreckage you left behind you?" He waved his hands around, gesturing to the hundreds of imaginary people that might have witnessed her crimes if not for him. "Who do you suppose was running after you cleaning up that mess?"

"You gave me that list of names. You set me on a path, and then left me there,"Katrina echoed mockingly.

_A Jedi doesn't deride or mock or make fun of. A Jedi doesn't get at the truth by intimidation and accusations-_

_The Dark Lord Revan would have impaled him by now._

Phineas was silent.

Clear as day- why did she sense this so easily, so acutely now? How had she not seen it then- there was something he didn't want to tell her. What could possibly be worse than what he had already done?

"Faris, Ruhol…they couldn't have been suspects. You knew Abbas and Sakh planned it. Why did you give me that list?"

Phineas stood, smoothing his robes and hair, his hands finally remembering where they belonged behind his back. His position was somewhat surreal considering her lightsaber was still inches from his face.

"It was always an uneasy balance between Sakh and I," he began, the politician's voice stumbling over 'I' and wanting to say 'us'. "He wanted me dead even before all this. Their failed attempt to assassinate you and your subsequent arrival on the planet only made him want to kill me more." He smiled wistfully, like he was remembering a sunny family picnic.

"Abbas wielded a lightsaber like Sakh could, but he could also debate you to death and destruction. He favored me." 'Favored' dripped with perverse delight.

"The list?" she snapped. Phineas sighed weakly, the sleeves of his robes still wrinkled up against his elbows, revealing his pale forearms.

"Sakh wanted me dead. Abbas needed additional justification for not letting one apprentice kill the other, and I refused to give it to him by killing you."

The wall his confession had been bumping into over and over for the past few minutes suddenly dissolved into nothing and the confession walked up to face her, naked and unafraid.

"I gave you a list of known Sith opposition. Opposition to the Sith on Anelli, but more specifically, those that opposed me-"

_He has seduced her, taken her away from her family, from her home. They've taken my Sonia, my daughter, turned her to their evil purposes. They will come tomorrow; He will come and the woman; she will come too. _

"_After agreeing to supply the Sith with weapons, Faris discovered that his daughter had been recruited into the Sith," Bastila summarized._

_"Then who's the man he's sworn to have his revenge on?" Dustil asked._

"Faris…"

Phineas stared straight at her, his face blank and emotionless.

"His daughter was a promising Junior Committee member who was strong in the Force. I convinced her to join the Sith."

"_I've amassed the secrets and intrigues of every member on that Committee," Ruhol sneered, "What I hold in my hand is delicious blackmail, Revan. You do know what that means, don't you?" _

_She heard 'Committee'. She thought of the only voice that had spoken to her, calm, collected, and self-assured. She heard 'blackmail'. She thought of her gentle, well-spoken brother, living a life alone and then having everything he had accomplished ruined by this vindictive little man._

"And Ruhol-"

"Besides hating me by association because of you embarrassing him, he had incriminating communications between myself and Abbas, and apparently the recording you showed me as well."

"_These Sith don't know how to conduct business," Haytham said, leaning forward. "They want complete control of the Anellian Mining Corporation. I can already feel them tightening the noose around my neck, trying to oust me from my position. I can't allow that to happen, no matter how powerful they are. But I am no Jedi, and I'm no former Sith Lord."_

"Haytham?" Phineas shrugged as if the man had been a vase that had, unfortunately, broken.

"His contacting you was unexpected, but as he said himself, we no longer desired his involvement in our plans. He was becoming too power-hungry. Being one of the heads of the Anellian Mining Corporation he had too much control as it was."

'Power-hungry', 'control', 'opposition'- She found herself struggling to remember that she knew who this man was, that his name was Phineas, that he was her brother, that he was not some pod creature quietly telling her about committing murders and gaining advantages.

"But ask me about Abbas and Sakh, Revan." Phineas was suddenly desperate. "They were on the list too, ask me about them."

"I gave you their names, Revan," he went on anyways despite her silence. "Not because I expected you to kill them, not because they opposed me, but because I betrayed them. Don't you understand? I was trying to help you, I-"

Her gaze silenced him.

"You gave me a list of your enemies and sent me off to kill them for you?"

"Superiority at any cost."

It was Carth's voice she heard in her head, but his son was saying the words.

"_He's gone. He said…No…it can't be true, can it?_ _No. No…no, it can't!"_

_Katrina wondered why the air felt so suddenly cold, so unforgiving. It suddenly felt as though her very breath offended it._

Was this the sick thump he had felt in his stomach with Saul's dying words?

Phineas opened his mouth but he couldn't seem to make anything come out other than his calm breathing. Finally her brother closed his eyes.

"Yes."

"And in that cave." She gulped down something (rage? tears?) "You tried to kill all of us-"

"No, Revan," he said softly. "I stopped so many killing blows that were meant for you."

_Turning too late, turning too slowly, Juhani's dull, glassy eyes, her feeble grip, her body dissolving into nothing, only the masked figure with the extended hands at the top of the stairs._

Phineas fell softly to his knees, eyes still closed.

There was what she was doing, and what she was supposed to be doing.

Katrina raised her lightsaber.


	44. Chapter 44

She began to bring her weapon down on his waiting head, and found that she couldn't move. She tried again and met with the same result.

It was nothing physical blocking her- Bastila and Dustil hadn't moved an inch. Phineas hadn't even tried to escape. He still knelt before her, his eyes closed; already looking dead as if the swing of her lightsaber was only for official purposes.

"Katrina." She couldn't remember the last time she had heard that name from Bastila's lips, but the Jedi had finally woken up, holding out her arm and stepping slowly towards her.

She glanced back at her.

_You don't know what he's done to me, Bastila. What he could have done to all of us. _

"But he didn't," she answered.

Bastila looked far more scarred than her years deserved. Scarred enough that she stopped there, not following it up wth the phrases Katrina was so used to hearing from her: _Do not give in to the dark side; Do not become what you despise._

_The Cathar looked ready to jump out of her skin. Katrina fought the urge to embrace her and pull her away from this miserable Twi'lek Xor that she wouldn't mind killing herself._

_"Just walk away, Juhani," she said slowly. "Just walk away."_

"I don't want your pity, Revan," her brother snapped, finally opening his eyes to give her an irritated look.

She allowed the small amusing thought to break through the tension; that he seemed to be _annoyed_ that she hadn't killed him yet.

"I don't pity you. I'm not going to show you mercy." The hard edge tried to creep into her voice, tried to turn 'mercy' into 'murder', but she kept it out. Her weapon dangled in the air for a moment longer.

Katrina finally let it drop and turned around.

"Let's go."

"What?"

Dustil was the least of her concerns at the moment, but she still turned to look at him.

"We need to find Sakh."

_There is no emotion, there is peace._ She heard the code even though she was not the one chanting it in her head like a death toll.

"You're letting him go?" Dustil said, taking two steps towards where Phineas still stood, his lightsaber raised as if Katrina's response would be 'No, just kidding. Go ahead and kill him'.

_There is no ignorance, there is only knowledge._

"We must act quickly. Sakh may have already begun preparations to flee the planet," Bastila added flatly, looking from Katrina to Phineas for help. Her brother was still staring at her, his jaw not entirely dropped but looking like it felt very heavy.

The younger Onasi didn't move. She watched his emotions fighting to break out on his face like hives, making his lips tremble and his eyelids twitch.

She needed to say something, anything.

"Dustil-"

"Wait just one minute," he began as if she hadn't said anything. One emotion finally broke through and she immediately recognized which one it was. "You're going to let him live?"

Phineas eyed the end of Dustil's lightsaber warily, finally letting out a broken and irregular breath.

"He doesn't deserve to die." _No one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes_.

She didn't quite believe it, couldn't quite grasp the fact that she was saying it and, moreover, knew it was right.

_There is no passion, there is serenity_. Her Padawan was screaming it now, shrieking it over and over in his mind until it became an unintelligible wail.

"Why?" Dustil shouted, echoing off the marble walls. "What excuses him? Explain it to me, _Master_."

_That's the most he's said since Coruscant,_ she thought.

"He gets live because he's your brother?" Dustil went on without waiting for an answer.

Should she bring that up? Should she take them all back to Korriban? What would a Master say?

"You would have killed your father, Dustil,"Katrina said softly. "What exempted him?"

_There is no chaos, there is harmony_. Now the Code seemed almost mocking amid the chaotic churning she felt in his stomach.

"My father didn't try to blow people up with prototype bombs. My father didn't lie about being a Sith from the moment we met him." His voice got louder with every 'my father'. "My father didn't send us off with a list of people to assassinate. My father didn't stand here and try to apologize for murdering people-"

'People' didn't mean people. It meant 'Juhani'.

Dustil broke off awkwardly, staring at the white core of his lightsaber, watching the glow pulse around it.

"My father didn't decimate an entire planet. My father didn't raise an army to fight against an army he used to lead. My father didn't kill my mother."

His head shot up.

"But my father let you live. He _exempted_ you." Dustil stepped towards her.

_There is no death; there is the Force_.

Her brother stood somewhat uncomfortably next to his desk, looking as though he wanted to do something but didn't know what. Bastila rushed forward. Katrina slowly raised a hand to stop her.

"Let him go."

"_If you in any way turn back, if you in any way betray the Republic…"_

_And in her heart she knew that Republic meant 'me', and that she had already done it._

"_You'll have to deal with me."_

Dustil's lightsaber was suddenly the only thing in her field of vision. She reached up belatedly to bat it away. He made two more clumsy and trembling swings at her, and she blocked both, staring him in the eye.

"Do you feel like this is going to ease your pain, Dustil?"

The upper lip of his tight sneer shivered at the sound of his name. His nose was running. His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice came out in a hiss worthy of his red blade.

"I'll kill you."

_I'll do it_.

"Will that solve anything?" Katrina replied flatly, parrying another blow. "Will it bring-"

_Juhani_.

"Will it bring her back?"

Another blow, this one more precise, but weaker.

She suddenly felt immense irritation towards him that he was being so stupid _again_, that he was wasting their time, engaging himself in a battle he couldn't win even if she went easy on him-

"_You can't defeat him," she hissed. The younger Onasi scoffed, moving past her and engaging Abbas. She could hear the rising Sith master's laughter again, echoing off the walls of the cavern. She heard Dustil's wretching and coughing sounds as the second apprentice's tell-tale clenched fist indicated an unresisted Force choke._

"Juhani's death-" she swallowed. "Juhani's death was not Phineas's fault."

Dustil growled, bringing his blade down vindictively.

_He had made the choice; he had left Carth on Telos. He was not her responsibility. Juhani quickly turned and fled towards Abbas. _

"Juhani's death was not your fault." Her Padawan hesitated only for an instant in which she realized that he had been blaming himself all along.

_She would not help Dustil. Let him pay the price for his own mistakes._

"It was mine."

Dustil's face screwed up in either confusion or disgust. His lightsaber lowered.

The peace didn't last. He hurtled towards her with his bare hands, the blade now dangling around as if it just happened to be attached to his palm.

Katrina grabbed his fist, holding her lightsaber up against his, restraining him from coming at her any further.

"_I'm not going to betray you. I'm Katrina, not Revan." The name tasted horrible. She grasped desperately for the life she had had hours ago, but not even its ghost remained now._

"Control yourself, Dustil," Bastila said, rushing forward. "You are treading dangerously close to the dark side."

"It's all right, Bastila," Katrina murmured, not looking away from her Padawan's gaze.

"_Well, we'll just have to wait and see about that." Carth turned towards her, cold dirt eyes the color of whatever grave he wanted her in. "Revan."_

"It was my fault, Dustil," she said carefully. Dustil's entire body shook with the effort of trying to overpower her. "You were outmatched against Abbas, and I saw you were in trouble."

It didn't hurt anymore than calling herself Revan, than accepting everything that went with it.

Small whimpers escaped from Dustil's gritted teeth. His knees began to bend.

"And I could have helped you, but I…"

_I am Revan._

"I didn't, and Juhani went to face him alone. If I had gone with her to help you defeat Abbas, she might still be alive." Dustil was lower than her already, still fighting, still pushing, but now half kneeling before her.

"If you kill me, it's not going to bring her back." 'Her' meant Juhani. 'Her' meant Morgana.

Katrina lowered her voice asDustil got shorter and shorter.

"Will it solve anything to fall to the dark side again?"

She glanced up at her brother.

"Will it solve anything to kill my brother?"

Phineas's face was white as a sheet, but he sighed, relieved.

"Will killing him bring Carth back?"

She hadn't thought of him in so long. She allowed herself to picture Carth Onasi, graying brown hair and honest brown eyes. It ached, and the aching felt good.

"Will killing anyone else end this war? Will it change what's happened? Will it change what I've done?"

Itseemed as though Dustil had suddenly collapsed onto the floor under the strain of his own rage. Looking at the failure and defeat in his eyes and her own lightsaber glowing a menacing green above his head, she realized she had put him there.

"Will this change the fact that Juhani died because of my mistake?"

_There is no more denial. There are only your memories; and those cannot be denied._

Katrinalooked squarely at Phineas.

"Phineas is my brother, and no, I'm not going to kill him." She held her hand out to Dustil.

Her Padawan- no longer the younger Onasi, no longer just his father in smaller shoes- finally took her hand, allowing himself to be helped up without a word.

His lightsaber sparked in his hands. It coughed red embers and then only a small wisp of smoke before falling silent.

"I won't be much help against Sakh," he finally said hoarsely.

She knew what she would have said weeks ago: _I don't need your help_. But now she simply nodded.

"We'll find out soon enough."

"If we're done here," Bastila said, coming closer. "We are losing precious time. We need to find Sakh and stop him." The Jedi turned to Phineas, who stood forgotten and quiet near his desk where they had left him.

"If you truly wish to atone for your actions, Phineas, you can start by telling us where Sakh might be." Her brother straightened up, the sweat around his neck suddenly visible.

"We were both very…confused after Abbas's death. I think the only reason he didn't seize on the chance to kill me then was because of the strong connection we both had to our…Master."

"And his location now?" Bastila pressed. Phineas leaned over the desk, his head hung and his arms motionless.

"There was too much evidence against him for him to remain on the Committee. But he didn't confide in me that this was the reason he was going into hiding, or where he was going, or even tell me that he was going into hiding at all." He sighed. "I assumed because of his lack of communication that he intended to kill me."

Her brother's head shot up violently. He whirled around as if some imaginary demon had tapped him on the shoulder.

"He's here-" A long blue lightning bolt shot across the darkness, connecting with Phineas's chest and sending him toppling over the desk and onto the floor.

Katrina heard his footsteps before she saw the Sith apprentice's feet; sharp tapping across the smooth floor.

Sakh walked into the sitting room, the low lighting illuminating only his lips, reddish cheekbones, and yellowing Sith eyes. It made it look like a thick rounded skull was floating towards them.

"I knew you might take it personally, Revan," he said, smiling at her, his teeth an unnatural shade of blinding white.

"And you're not?" she answered. Sakh chuckled.

"Ah, but you forget; that is the way of the Sith. Our emotion fuels us, gives us strength and drive. Drive to do the unthinkable." He said the last few words derisively, his gaze going from Katrina to where Phineas was curled up on the other side of the desk, coughing and trying to push himself up.

"Isn't that what you said to justify yourself, Phineas? Perhaps you have conveniently forgotten it now that your sister is here to kill you. Perhaps she has forgotten it as well since she cannot accept that she still follows our ways."

There was none of the blinding rage that had been a characteristic of the Sith apprentice she had fought in the caves in Delre. Instead there was an incredibly calm sense of triumph, as if he had already forseen all this and foresaw that he would win.

"You're…a fool, Sakh," Phineas rasped, pulling himself up on the desk. "You've walked yourself straight into your own death sentence. Do you have any idea how much evidence is against you?"

She didn't know how to intervene; how to stop it before it got out of hand. Instead she just kept exchanging concerned looks with Bastila, keeping her eyes on Sakh and making sure she was between him and the path to her brother.

"Evidence I am sure you were helpful in stacking against me. Tell me, Phineas, did you destroy all the evidence against yourself as well? I am sure Revan would be quite interested to know what part she played in your little plans."

His bulky arm rose to try and send more blue flames to lick at her brother. Katrina held up her lightsaber, absorbing them before they even got close to Phineas.

Sakh began to laugh, not the light, airy sound that his former Master had made. His was loud, booming, overwhelming; and it crackled around them as if it could echo forever.

"I will allow you this, Phineas- convincing a former Dark Lord not to kill you could not have been easy. You are a master politician. Perhaps even as great as Abbas was." His gaze was cold now, the triumph replaced with the dead weight of inevitability. "But the favoritism he showed you in life will not help you now in death."

"You will not replace your Master, Sakh," Bastila snapped, lightsaber already in attack position. "The path of the Dark Side ends only in death."

The Sith apprentice smiled. "As you will soon discover, Jedi Bastila."

"You've rounded them all up for me, Phineas." He sounded hungry. "How convenient. I thought I might have to chase them across the galaxy."

She felt rage, but it was not coming from Sakh. It was coming from her brother, mounting and threatening to lash out from his fingers.

"You think you're going to defeat all four of us?" Dustil said, raising an eyebrow.

"I see no weapon in your hands, little Padawan," he taunted, still pronouncing 'padawan' wrong. "Has the death of your Master made you give up your violent ways-"

"Enough,"Katrina said flatly.

Sakh responded by brandishing both lightsabers, one behind him and one in front.

He engaged Bastila first, slamming one blade down towards the lower end of her double blade. The Jedi shoved the upper end towards his face, knocking him backwards.

Katrina took one hand while Bastila took the other, each working on a lightsaber. Sakh operated both as if each was a separate entity, as if he was only holding one weapon instead of coordinating two.

He came down hard upon the handle of Bastila's weapon. The Jedi cried out, falling backwards and grasping her burned hands.

Sakh turned to slam both blades down on Katrina.

"I am unsure as to which of you to kill first." He smiled again. "Would it hurt the great Committee Member Phineas more to watch his sister finally die completely? Or would it hurt him more to watch her fall back to the Dark Side as he dies?"

She said nothing; only responded to the burning behind her eyelids and slashed unmercifully towards his stomach.

Bastila returned to her side, swiping at Sakh's heels. He leapt over each attempt, finally vaulting out of the circle of Jedi that had surrounded him and to the corner of the room where Phineas and Dustil stood.

He flung one of his lightsabers towards the two. Phineas's arm shot out, knocking it out of its intended path. The lightsaber toppled down the three small stairs, sliding across the floor.

Dustil and Sakh both stood frozen for a moment, eying each other.

Then both went diving for the weapon. The Sith apprentice, held out his hand, expecting the weapon to fly into it instantly. Dustil reached out, capturing it smoothly before it could even get halfway there. He extended it, looking like he was trying to contain a smirk.

_That's my Padawan, _she thought with, in light of the situation, a probably inappropriate sense of pride.

Sakh's resolve began to break down as Katrina noticed the first lines of sweat begin to roll down his forehead. He grasped his remaining lightsaber with both hands and swung towards Dustil.

"Do the Jedi usually use their Padawans as human shields?"

"That's _Padawan,_" Dustil replied, pronouncing it correctly. The two sabers smashed loudly against each other as if they knew the other was its former partner.

Sakh was pushed back against the wall, and he immediately glared at Phineas. Her brother's arms were finally both raised, the position looking as eerily natural as they did folded calmly behind his back.

"You tell me I'm a fool, Phineas," Sakh snapped, stumbling for a moment against the Force wave her brother was sending at him. "But you could easily have me arrested simply by alerting the authorities. The evidence against me is high- and while I could no doubt escape the security measures in place, it would become harder for me to move about freely on Anelli."

Her brother's face grew taut as if there were strings attached to the edges of his face, each being pulled to the limit.

"But you won't do that, will you?" Sakh murmured, laughing again. "Because they would no doubt discover your involvement as well."

Phineas dropped one hand, the other clenching together. Sakh gasped, sputtering and swinging his lightsaber around as if he could stop the Force with it.

"You…you are a coward…aren't you?" he rasped, still trying to laugh.

She felt as though everything she had ever done or experienced could be ruined by this ruddy, dark politician who was laughing as though he had already ruined it, even though it wasn't her hand doing the choking.

Katrina carefully advanced on all of them, Bastila following; on Dustil, standing before Sakh, uncertain and hesitant; on Sakh, still laughing as though it were a game; and on Phineas, who looked like there was no longer anything else in his world except for the gasping politician in front of him.

Sakh shot out an arm, lighting again striking Phineas in the chest. He grimaced, but clenched his fist tighter.

"This isn't the way, Phineas. Would you replace one Dark Lord with another?" Bastila said, batting away Sakh's attempted swings. The Sith apprentice was still staggering towards them, slowed considerably by his heavy breathing, but his attacks no less fierce.

Katrina and Dustil joined Bastila, surrounding Sakh.

"This isn't right,"Katrina snapped.

"He would kill you and your friends," Phineas replied. "And then he would kill me and make my name infamous."

"Which one's the reason you're choking him?" Dustil called out just as Sakh managed to pull his lightsaber out of the Padawan's hands and back into his own.

With a strength that could have only come from realizing the possibility that he might lose, Sakh knocked them all to the floor, breaking Phineas's grip. He panted, looking more like the angry, jealous apprentice that had ruthlessly killed in Ruhol's recording.

"Enough of this talk, Phineas. This is no longer the politician's arena,"the Sithgrowled. "I will see you die, and then I will see Revan die. And I will do what both Abbas and Malak could not." He lunged towards her brother.

_There is no death, there is the Force_.

Katrina brought her lightsaber up over his back. Sakh whirled around, attempting to bring both blades down upon her.

Bastila blocked one. Dustil blocked the other.

Katrina found that the dark power she had feared; the anger and rage that she had been fearing ever since Malak had opened his mouth and said her name again; and the dread that she could never take that name without the darkness, the anger, and the rage controlling her:

They were nowhere to be found as she slid her lightsaber through Sakh's stomach.

The Sith apprentice's mouth dropped lazily open. He struggled for breath, giving her a strangely confused look, as though he suddenly had no idea how he had gotten himself in this predicament.

_He looked exactly like what he was; defeated. She struggled to think of something to say, some meaningful words that might make her less of a former Sith Lord and more of a Jedi._

_What she thought of to say, however, was something no Jedi who had never traveled the path of a Dark Lord could know._

"_This is the way of the dark side, Malak. All things end in death."_

Sakh crumpled lifelessly to the ground. Dead.

Phineas took a few hestitant steps forward to stand over the body of his former colleague; his former rival. He glanced up at her, hands calmly clasped behind him once again.

He looked exactly like what he was; the winner.

"All right," he breathed. "Revan, you have to go now. If you move fast, I can get your ship unguarded long enough so you can escape-"

"The ship's already free," Dustil interrupted. Phineas shot him an annoyed look before continuing.

"Get out of here. I'll do the best I can to erase the charges against you-"

That was running away. And she was not running away again.

"I didn't kill him to help your political career, Phineas." Her brother glared at her.

"Do you know what you're suggesting? You want me to give up my life! You want me to throw away everything I've ever worked for, everything that's gotten me to where I am today!"

_Someday when she was a great Jedi, she would come back and make it up to him._

Katrina picked up one of Sakh's lightsabers and placed it in her brother's hand.

"Look at where you are."

He was silent.

"You know what you have to do then," Katrina finished.

Her brother Phineas hung his head, looking from saber to dead man and back to the saber again.

"Yes, I do."


	45. Chapter 45

_Even their ship looked impressive. Its gangplank extended itself invitingly to her, and for a moment she thought it might have been the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen._

_Not the scorched metal of a ship that had seen more adventure than she could begin to envy, not the three Jedi who stood respectfully to the side in their muted robes with their lightsabers (she had gotten to see one, hold one, wave one around and loved their quiet hum), not even her closest friend standing next to her with one of his rare smiles on his face._

_No, the beauty was in that the gangplank and the ship and the Jedi would lead her away from here, to an entire galaxy that would finally meet her and discover everything she was capable of._

_In the distance she saw their house, quiet and listless. Her mother was there, she knew; asleep and in pain. _

_She couldn't decide whether she hoped her Nura's delirium would last: on the one hand, it would shield her from realizing that her daughter was gone, and would probably not be coming back for a long time. _

_On the other hand, it would make her happier knowing that her mother was coherent and strong, even if she was angry that her daughter had left without a word._

_"So…how long does this Jedi training last?" But he had come to see her off; even though their mother was sick and he was loaded with Junior Committee work, he was here with his arms folded and his face resigned._

_Revan smirked at her brother._

_"Probably a lot longer than your Committee training does."_

_"At least mine deals with something tangible rather than all this Force nonsense."_

_"At least mine does something more than debating."_

_"At least mine's here," Phineas finished softly. Both brother and sister shuffled their feet awkwardly for a moment._

_Phineas stepped closer to them, placing a hand on Malak's shoulder._

_"Malak, take care of my sister, understand?" Malak nodded gravely, as if it was a task of monumental importance._

I won't need to be taken care of anymore. I'll be a Jedi.

_"And you listen to him," Phineas said, narrowing his eyes at her. "Sometimes you need to be talked out of your own ideas."_

_She could tell he wanted to talk her out of this one, to be less the responsible older brother and more the domineering politician._

_She would miss him. Not the warm wind on her face or the sight of the crimson mountains, but she would miss him._

_Revan let herself slip back into her old life for a moment, embracing her brother. His hand rubbed her back._

I'll come back, Phineas.

_He released her, straightening her clothing unnaturally, trying to act like the father she had never known. She batted his hands away, glaring at him._

_"You'll probably be much better at that look when you come back," he finally said, smirking._

_"What look?"_

_"That Jedi look."_

_He was proud of her. He believed in her. He would follow her to the end._

_Revan turned around, hefting her bag over her shoulder and trying not to look as nervous as she felt as the Jedi nodded to her and began to board their ship. _

_"Will we come back?" Malak murmured at her side. She turned to look back at Phineas._

_He stood tall and motionless on the red earth, older than fifteen, head high and hands flat at his sides._

_"When we're Jedi."_

* * *

"It's really not that bad a place." 

Katrina stood in the dock, feeling the wind that the child version of her seemed to have despised, the glow of the sun the child version of her couldn't wait to leave.

It seemed somewhat ironic that now, as an adult, she had been told that she could never return to Anelli even if she wanted to.

She shook her head in agreement, glancing at Dustil who had come up next to her.

"No, no it's not."

But, just like the child version of her, she didn't exactly feel right just leaving it without a goodbye, even though the dock was guarded by several armed security officers, making sure she didn't reenter Fornia.

But what she wanted to say goodbye to was probably still going through the agonies of being stripped of his titles; of his life.

_You're doing it again, _he had interrupted her thoughts hours ago, after their trial was over and the Committee had returned to give them their final judgment.

Katrina had raised an eyebrow towards where her brother stood on the other side of the room, hands behind his back now only because they were in shackles.

_Doing what?_

_Stop giving me that look._

"The defendants may step forward." It was the soberest tone she'd ever heard, and that made her jump instantly instead of taking the time to sigh, rub her neck, and stroll leisurely towards the spotlight in front of the Committee that had become all but routine by now.

"The Committee has reviewed the evidence you have presented to us, Phineas." Her brother nodded.

"Let it be written as fact in the records that both the late Committee Members Abbas and Sakh were indeed guilty of crimes against the state," the voice continued in that same dry monotone, "Including but not limited to embezzlement, extortion, coercion, assault, and murder. Let it be written as conjecture that both Abbas and Sakh were presumably followers of an ideal associated Sith'ari, considering themselves Master and Apprentice respectively, and that these ideals played a major role in their crimes against the state."

For a moment, she felt sorry for the remaining members of the Committee; completely innocent in the whole plot, deceived and manipulated by two of their highest members.

_Three of their highest members_.

"Let it also be written as fact in the records," The voice became hard. "That former Committee Member Phineas is also guilty of crimes against the state by his own recorded confession. Including but not limited to extortion, coercion, assault, and attempted murder. By his own admission, he was a follower of an ideal associated with the Sith'ari, taking on the role of apprentice presumably against a Master assumed to be the late Abbas."

Nothing seemed to sting her brother more than the word 'former', and she watched him nod, his head not as high as it was before.

She hung onto the word 'confession' however; it made everything seem less severe.

"The Committee has sentenced its late members Abbas and Sakh to a dishonorable expulsion from our governing body, and to have their names erased from its annals. They are to be entered in the records as enemies of the state, and all their properties and holdings seized if there are no legal inheritors."

They hesitated for a moment, and she wondered if it hurt them just as much as it hurt her brother to pronounce judgment on him.

"As for you, Phineas, the Committee sentenced you to a dishonorable expulsion from our governing body as well, and to have your name erased from our histories. You are to be re-entered as an enemy of the state, and all your property and holdings seized excluding personal effects."

The speaker hesitated again. "Were Abbas and Sakh alive, the Committee would recommend execution."

_Did I confess just to die by someone else's hand? _

Katrinafrowned, though her brotherwasn't looking at her.

_I didn't make you confess._ She watched Phineas's shoulders heave as he sighed.

_No. No, you didn't._

"However, your crimes are not as severe. The Committee therefore sentences you to exile from the planet of Anelli. Should you return here again, you are punishable by law for failing to follow your sentence, and you will be executed."

Phineas stared blankly at them. Then finally, weakly, he nodded in acknowledgment.

She felt sorrow, but there was no more blinding rage, no more hidden resentment. He was simply sad.

"Jedi Revan." The voice returned to its business-like tone, finding it easier to judge her than one of its former colleagues. "You and your companions have been charged further with your involvement in the deaths of aristocrats Faris and Ruhol, and the charges stemming from the Anellian Mining Corporation incident still stand."

She felt Bastila's nervous breath on her neck and she raised an eyebrow at the Jedi, who moved back a little.

"But in light of the evidence presented and the full confession of Phineas, the Committee has decided to grant you and your companions clemency. You are also sentenced to exile from Anelli, and should you return to the planet in the future, you will be tried, convicted, and sentenced accordingly for your crimes."

She tried not to look as relieved as she felt. 'Clemency', like 'end', was not a word she heard often.

The members of the Committee slowly rose and exited the room one by one until it was only her, Bastila, Dustil, and Canderous.

And Phineas, standing on the other side of the spotlight, rubbing his wrists as the guards removed his shackles and walked away.

There she had left him, escorted back to the _Ebon Hawk_ under the watchful eyes of the security team that now stood at the entrance to Fornia.

"Revan." She looked up from the blank spot in the _Hawk_'s hull she had been staring at.

Phineas stood a few meters away, smirking ruefully at her.

She hadn't recognized him; he looked so different now in the bland gray clothing of the civilians, a bag slung over his shoulder and his hair slightly tousled, like any other traveler.

"Gray's not your best color."

"Insults aren't your best occupation." She bit her lip, trying not to laugh, trying to remember who she was and who he was, and why he was in gray and not his long robes.

"All they let me keep," he murmured, hefting his bag to show her. "None of my awards, of course. Just a few mementos, some food, enough credits to maybe buy some cheap Tarisian ale knock-off."

He sighed tiredly.

"At least they didn't brand me or anything."

"Do they usually do that?"

Her brothersmiled.

"No. But I'm your standard unusual case." He pulled out Sakh's lightsaber, and Katrina noticed it was sealed at the top.

"They made me keep this thing, though. I'm glad they sealed it. I don't think I can stand the color red anymore." Dustil held out a hand to look at it.

"Mine'll probably stay red until I figure out how to repair the damn thing," her Padawan muttered, handing it back to Phineas. Her brother tossed it a few times, sticking it back in his bag.

"You might not want to change it. It'll remind you of a few things every time you look at it."

Phineaspulled at his earlobe, looking sideways at her.

"I didn't want to leave without, well…" Dustil took the unspoken cue and headed off towards the gangplank on the _Hawk_.

Katrina turned back to Phineas. It was hard to imagine that he had once been a powerful member of that governing body of voices she had become familiar with, that he had once been a tall and echoing shadow passing judgment over everyone. It was just as hard to remind herself that he had once been a Sith.

Now he was just a tall and lanky traveler. Now he was just her brother.

"What are you going to do?"

Phineas shrugged.

"Hop on one of these docked ships, I guess." He laughed with more confidence than she saw in his face. "Do you know I've never been off Anelli? I don't really have the first idea about where to go."

There was an awkward silence for a minute.

"I'd ask you for a lift…" he trailed off.

"I don't think that would work out," she finished flatly. There were some things a simple change of clothing wouldn't make go away.

He nodded.

"Well, I guess…I guess this is goodbye then." He held out a hand awkwardly.

_There are some things that never go away. But there is a brother._

Katrina reached out, grasping his hand. In one fluid motion, she pulled him towards her and hugged him.

He returned it immediately, without any hesitation or fumbling for a way to hug his sister without looking like less of a man.

"Take care of yourself," he murmured. "And that Republic whomever you're going back to."

She pulled back from him, nodding.

Phineas straightened, turning around and beginning to walk away.

"Revan?" he suddenly said, turning around.

"That's my name," she replied.

Her brother smiled softly.

"I'm glad you remember."

She watched him walk towards the central docking area, through the guards who watched him carefully as he wove quietly between the people around him; until he blended seamlessly into the sea of gray and tan that made up the busy port, until she couldn't see him anymore.

Katrina turned and headed back up the gangplank of the _Ebon Hawk_.

Dustil turned from where he had been standing near the workbench.

"Mission and Zaalbar fixed everything the Anellian lockdown had changed. We're ready whenever you are."

"That is," he added with a moment's pause, "Once you tell us where we're going."

"Coruscant." Dustil nodded.

"And then Telos."

Dustil seemed frozen in his position for a moment, head cocked to the side and hands jutting halfway out of his pockets. For a second she saw his father again.

"_You might not want to change it. It'll remind you of a few things every time you look at it."_

"I can't be her, Dustil." And by 'her' she meant both Juhani and Morgana. "And I promise you I'm not going to try." She gripped her Padawan's shoulder, and he nodded.

"Guess I better get the old lightsaber in working order again,"Dustil murmured, sitting down at the workbench.

Katrinawatched him a moment or two before smiling to herself and heading towards the cockpit.

_If Telos is still there. If he's still there. _She bit her tongue on 'and if he still wants you'.

Canderous and Bastila sat in the pilot and co-pilot's seats, and she sat down silently behind them. She could feelBastilatentatively crawling around in her thoughts, and she settled back in her chair and offered no resistance.

The Jedi turned to look at her.

"Coruscant then?" Katrina nodded.

"The Council will be very happy with this turn of events, Revan."

"I think we're all pretty happy with it too."

The Jedi glanced up at her again.

"What will you do after that?"

Katrinaglanced out the window, watching a ship take off into the sunset, wondering if her brother was on it, wondering if she would ever see him again.

_There is no death, there is the Force._

She had a brother; and he had overcome the Dark Side, and that meant she would see him again, one way or the other. She also had a pilot who had not been dead when she left him. And that meant she would see him again too. One way or the other.

"We'll go home. All of us."


	46. Chapter 46

_Dustil gave another restless sigh behind her. _

_"We've waited this long. What's a few more minutes?" she murmured to him._

_"Minutes that feel like hours," he muttered. She felt his gaze on her back, and she inhaled deeply._

Concentrate on the sky, the rising buildings. Anything but the man heading down the corridor in your direction.

_Telos stretched before her, half alive and half dead. She had once thought of herself the same way; half alive, the person she stubbornly convinced herself she was, and half dead; the person she kept trying to tell herself did not exist anymore._

_But the two people were the same; and they were her._

_Would they be the same person he loved?_

_"You're nervous?" he said incredulously. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe in evenly and deeply._

_"A Jedi is never nervous." Dustil's hand touched hers where they were clasped in death grips on one another behind her back. She felt how violently they were shuddering and glanced at Dustil's smirk for a moment._

You have brought back the most important thing. Don't forget that. A Jedi does not desire love, a Jedi does not desire desire. A Jedi does not long for his kiss, his embrace.

_It was as if she could feel every step Carth might have been taking near the room they waited in with every beat of her heart. She felt his presence closer and closer._

_Dustil's nervous energy helped to cancel out hers. She placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment. __He inhaled suddenly, and she opened her eyes._

_Carth was here. _

_The reflection in the glass stared back at her, her own astonished features and those that she hadn't seen properly for months. __He looked floored, as much surprise on his face as she could make out in the glassy reflection in front of her. He walked slowly to the middle of the room, the only noticeable difference a slight limp. Dustil slipped out from under her grip, walking towards him. She returned her hand resolutely to its brother behind her back._

_"Father…" Dustil began. He didn't seem to know how to go any further._

_Carth's smile began slowly and spread to his cheeks, and she saw the many little wrinkles that appeared near his eyes when he was happy._

"_Dustil, I can't believe it…I didn't believe it when they told me, but now…" She could see in the glass that they had finally reached each other, each man's hand extended in an awkward attempt to have a greeting that didn't make the other uncomfortable._

"_A Jedi. I…I can't tell you how proud I am." She watched her Padawan hesitate for only a moment._

_Then she smiled to herself as she watched him embrace his father. Carth seemed stiff at first, unused to an embrace from a son he had only seen as a child and a resentful Sith apprentice. His arms slowly returned the hug._

_She felt no more resentment from her Padawan. And that was a reward in itself._

_"I, uh," Carth said, clearing his throat and his voice taking on a different tone entirely. "I suppose I should probably meet your Master."_

A Jedi isn't afraid to turn around. A Jedi isn't hoping she can just stay here, watching everything through the glass.

_She turned around, unclasping her hands and forcing them to stay still at her sides. She walked forward to join them in the center of the room, Dustil stepping back respectfully._

_His beard was thicker. She wondered if it was to hide the scars. Hers were still plain across her forehead, pale and irreversible._

_He looked as nervous as she felt, as if he wanted to pull her into his arms as easily as he had in the past but instead stood shuffling his feet, not needing to be a Jedi to know that something had changed._

_In the end, he was still the Carth she remembered, and very little had changed._

_He reached out suddenly, sweeping her around in a circle, a broad smile on his face. His smile now looked more pained, but she sensed nothing but happiness. His injuries had even altered him physically._

_"I thought I might deck Jolee if he told me you were out finding your destiny one more time."_

_"For a pilot, you're a pretty good leader," she answered, gesturing vaguely to the windows behind her. He shrugged._

_"It wasn't exactly…pretty when I woke up. We had to do something."_

"_We Admirals are multitalented like that, gorgeous," he added, somewhat experimentally to see how she would take it._

_She was still nervous, still unable to answer him with the quick tongue she had used to. Carth nodded to himself, rubbing his neck with a moment's grimace._

_"The Outer Rim can change things, I guess." She shot him a look that said that particular thing had definitely not changed, and finally found her voice again._

_"Not everything."_

_Carth smiled, glancing up at Dustil._

_"I…I guess we've got a lot to talk about, Katrina."_

_She almost couldn't believe that she was back on Telos, and Carth Onasi was standing in front of her. It seemed so ludicrous after everything that had happened that she could be at rest, that there was nothing lurking in the shadows behind her._

_The shadows would always be there, she knew, but they would not always be for her. _

_She reached out and took his hand, feeling the callouses on his palms, the smooth part of his index finger where it had gripped the trigger of a blaster a thousand times over._

_There was much to talk about, much to tell him. Much to remind him of and hope that he would understand._

_He squeezed her hand back. He would understand._

_This was her life: A man that loved her, a Padawan that had triumphed over his anger and the death of Master, a brother who had betrayed her and taught her that betrayal did not mean there was no return. A Jedi with a green lightsaber who had fallen and emerged from the depths of hell again._

_She smiled softly at him. _

"_Call me Revan."_

FIN


End file.
